


just too good to be true

by eliestarr



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Friends to Lovers, M/M, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-08
Updated: 2018-03-02
Packaged: 2019-03-02 11:31:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 56,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13317177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eliestarr/pseuds/eliestarr
Summary: Liam has the worst luck when it comes to girls. Things just keep crashing and burning. Mason tries to convince him that maybe it’s time to come out, to date a guy instead, but his best friend won’t hear it. So he and Corey decide to find him the ultimate date, someone who’s exactly his type—snarky, tendency to punch people, and tough enough to put up with their volatile friend. Bad boy Theo Raeken is the perfect fit, despite his murky past and caustic personality. And the fact that he won’t do it for free. What could go wrong? // 10 Things I Hate About You AU.





	1. the set-up

**Author's Note:**

> written for day 1 of the thiam movie au fest: romance/comedy (which was yesterday oops!) this was meant to posted all in one go but uh, since I apparently don't know when to STOP it's now a monstrous thing and it's going to be in parts. have fun, kids. unbeta'd (because I do not have one, so hit a girl up @ eliestarr on tumblr if you like that sort of thing, please I will pay you in love and puns)
> 
> dedicated to skaboom for being the best moral support ever <3

_“Liam,”_ Mason says, exasperated.

Liam blinks, dragging himself from his thoughts and back to the present. His character’s just been shot in the head and is lying at the base of the hill in a heap. He winces. “Sorry.”

The other team traipses past his body, and promptly closes in on Mason’s character, cornering him behind a rusted car and executing him. The screen fades to black, and _GAME OVER_ flashes brightly on the screen before them a moment later. Mason sighs.

“Man, that’s the third time you’ve spaced out,” he says. He returns them to the menu, hovering over _FIND MATCH_ , before ultimately deciding against it and setting the controller on the floor. He levels a concern look at his best friend. “What’s up with you tonight?”

“I’m just out of it, I guess,” Liam shrugs. There’s really no guesswork involved, really. He feels like shit, and he has for weeks. The Cyclones have been doing great and are three games away from Championships, his grades are decent, and he’s heard back from all three colleges he applied to. By all means, he should be happy.

But there’s this ache in his chest that’s anything but.

The discomfort must be obvious on his face. He can see the way Mason’s brows knit together in a frown, and he knows the words are coming before he’s even opened his mouth.

“Is this about Hayden?”

Liam groans, leaning his head back and thumping it against his mattress. “Girls _suck.”_ Corey snorts, loudly. Liam can just barely see him from where he’s sitting at the head of the bed, nose tucked into a book. “What? They do! Or maybe I’m just cursed.”

Dating is absolutely the worst social custom known to man. He has no idea who came up with it or why, but he wishes he could travel back in time to punch them in the face. Repeatedly. He’s sure it’d be therapeutic at this point. Because dating? It’s just not working out for him.

Corey’s eyes flick up to meet his, and one brow raises. “It’s been three weeks,” the other boy says, unimpressed. “You should probably stop moping.”

Liam frowns at him. “I dated her for almost a year!”

“And you dated Malia for like, three months, then you moped for _another_ two,” Mason points, and the miserable boy shoots him a glare. Are they really ganging up on him about his spectacularly awful love life? “And before that—”

“You saw Kira for maybe two weeks. And kissed her once.” Liam doesn’t dare look up, he can _hear_ the smug grin in Corey’s voice.

“What’s your point?” He crosses his arms with a huff. “Because you’re just making mine: _girls suck.”_

He watches Mason exchange a glance with Corey over his footboard, before the look on his face turns sympathetic in a way that sets off warning bells. Liam knows that look. He’s seen it before, many _many_ times. Usually when he’s done something stupid, or Mason’s explaining something to him that he should probably get by now. Or the rare times where Mason tries to convince him—

_Uh oh._

His best friend smiles softly. “Maybe it’s time you stop kidding yourself with the whole _straight_ thing, Li.”

Liam hunches his shoulders, scowling. _“Mason.”_

The other boy shrugs, the picture of innocence. “I’m just saying, this hasn’t been working out for you. And we’re kind of tired of seeing you get your heart broken.”

“So we were thinking, if you were to step outside your comfort zone…”

Liam shakes his head. “Not happening.”

“Liam,” Mason says, and it’s so _patient_ that something twists uncomfortably in his chest. His best friend reaches out, placing a hand over his. “You’ve been hiding half of yourself all of high school, man. And I get it, okay? I do.”

“You don’t,” Liam interrupts, shaking his head. He lets out a hollow laugh, and nearly pulls his hand away. How many times have they had this same argument? “Your parents were _happy_ for you when you came out. Your mom bought you a _car_ like it was your fucking birthday, or something.”

Mason’s lips pull into a thin smile. “It wasn’t that easy, you know.”

“For either of us,” Corey adds, and Liam’s brain helpfully supplies a memory of the quieter boy sleeping in the guest room at the Hewitts for a week after he’d told his parents they’d started dating last year. They’d settled things in time, but it’s still a raw wound for the guy.

He sighs. “I know. I’m sorry. I just—You know my parents. Between my dad and the lacrosse team, I...I can’t. I _want_ to, really. I do. But I just can’t.” He busies himself with picking at a loose strand of carpet, voice lowering. “I haven’t even told them Hayden and I broke up yet.”

Mason’s shoulders deflate a little. “Yeah, we know.” He breathes out slowly, almost sadly, then picks up his controller, offering Liam a reassuring smile. “You wanna play another?”

Relief washes over him at the change in subject, the tightness in his chest melting away in the face of his best friend’s warmth. He grins, hands reaching for his discarded remote. “Definitely! And I promise to pull my weight this time.”

He settles back against his bed, gaze settling on the screen as Mason snorts, pressing the button to get them started. He’s so focused on the game starting and getting a jump on the other team, he misses the way the other two boys exchange looks again, this time far more determinedly.

* * *

“You really think this is going to work?” Corey asks. He makes a face, pushing his food around his tray. It’s Monday, which means _mystery meat_ is on the menu.

Mason chances a look over his shoulder to see where Liam’s at in line, then turns back, grinning at his boyfriend. “Definitely! It’s no use _us_ telling him it’s time to date a guy. He’ll think we’re biased. He needs to hear it from someone interested in him.”

He props open his lunch box, sliding out a large sub and two apples. One goes to Corey, and once he’s pulled apart the sandwich, two thirds of it follows. Mason takes a bite of his piece, leaning forward conspiratorially. “Oka’ tho,” he says, and Corey makes a face at him. He pauses, taking the time to swallow before he keeps going. _“Okay, so,_ we need someone _he’ll_ be interested in. Someone his type, who’ll help break him out of his shell.”

“Right,” Corey nods, biting into his sandwich and sighing happily. He _loves_ the Hewitts’ tuna sandwiches. Or, well, their cook’s anyway. “Boxes to tick off?”

“Well, for starters,” Mason hums, holding up a finger to start counting, “he has to be hot. I’m not setting my best friend up with just _anyone_.”

“Mhm.”

“Also, most importantly, it needs to be someone who can handle Liam’s… difficult personality.”

“Mhmm.”

“They’ll have to keep him on his toes, obviously. So a quick wit, or a sense of humour would help. Oh! And so far all his girlfriends have sort of had this thing about punching him in the face as a meet-cute?”

“Violent tendencies,” Corey adds, shuddering as he remembers Malia.

_“Equally_ volatile personality,” Mason corrects him, tone bright and chipper. He waggles his four fingers in the air for emphasis.

“I feel like that shouldn’t be a box.” The hungry teen stuffs the last bite of his sandwich into his mouth. He swallows it down in seconds, reaching for the apple while Mason stares, open-mouthed.

“Where do you put it, honestly?” Corey just shrugs at him, and he shakes his head affectionately before checking to see Liam’s progress. His meeting with Coach had gone on just long enough that he’d joined them right when the line was busiest. _“Anyway_. Got any ideas where to start?”

His boyfriend devours a chunk of apple, then nods his head at someone over Mason’s right shoulder. “What about him?”

Mason glances behind him, scanning the cafeteria. He doesn’t really need to, as he knows who Corey’s talking about the second he spots him, sitting at the very back. His black t-shirt hugs his broad shoulders tightly, and there’s a cigarette tucked behind his pierced ear. His feet are propped up on the table, large black combat boots sitting dangerously close to Tracy Stewart’s lunch tray. Leaning off-kilter in his chair, he’s flicking peas across the table at Josh Diaz, who’s attempting to catch them in his mouth.

Mason spins back so fast his neck protests the attempted whiplash with a painful twinge. _“Theo Raeken?_ Really, babe?” He hisses, lowering his voice. “You know he’s a criminal, right?”

“So they say,” Corey shrugs. “We don’t actually know what happened last year.”

Mason looks unimpressed. “They say he lit a deputy on fire.”

“Parrish looked fine at assembly last month.”

“They _also_ say he tried to poison Tracy— _and_ electrocuted Josh. And this was _before_ he dropped out of school!”

Corey’s gaze slides past Mason, and when it returns, it’s his turn to look unperturbed. “Yet they’ve hung out with him all year since he’s been back. So, probably just rumors.”

“You haven’t,” Mason points out, but even that doesn’t faze him.

His boyfriend just shrugs. “You know I stopped hanging out with him sophomore year.”

“Yeah, because he was a bad influence!” He cries, throwing his hands up. Two girls at the table to their left shoot him a nasty look, and he frowns at them before returning his attention to Corey. “You’re not really selling him here.”

“Okay, forget his reputation for a minute. He’s hot,” Corey says, holding up a finger. “He’s an asshole, so not only can he put up with our tinier asshole, but he’s sarcastic and sort of thinks he’s funny. Also, he’ll pick a fight with literally anyone.” He’s holding up all four fingers Mason had earlier.

“I thought you said that shouldn’t be a box,” he frowns, but he can already feel his resolve crumbling.

“You listed it, not me.”

Mason rolls his eyes, then turns to sneak another look at their intended target. Theo’s feet are still up, but he’s no longer throwing food. Instead, his arms are folded behind his head as he leans back in his chair, perched precariously on two legs, and he’s smirking as he watches Tracy and Josh argue about something.

“How do we even know if he’s interested?” Mason asks, brows knitting together thoughtfully. “In guys, I mean.”

“Oh, he’s interested,” Corey says weakly, and it’s the tone that makes his boyfriend whip back around for the second time in as many minutes. It’s _embarrassed_. The moment he spots the pink creeping across his cheeks, Mason’s mouth drops open.

“Oh my god. You _didn’t.”_

Corey’s lips press together tightly, then pop as he laughs nervously, reaching up to rub the back of his neck. “It was just once. I was still unsure, still questioning. I wanted—I was curious what it’d be like to kiss a guy, and he offered.” His shoulders tuck in tighter, and he folds his hands into a heap on the table in front of him.

“So you’re picking the school bad boy based on the fact that he was your first kiss?” Mason groans, slumping forward. His forehead smacks against the table, and his voice is muffled as he says: “This is a terrible idea. But it’s not the _worst_ idea.”

“That’s because I’m right,” Corey says happily, reaching across the table to hover over Mason’s apple. “Are you going to eat that?”

“Knock yourself out,” he mutters. “I know I want to.”

* * *

Mason waits until AP Biology to make the first move, because it’s the only class the four of them have together. He thinks about cornering him after school, because he knows Theo leaves early and he could catch him on the way out, but he also knows he’d prefer to have as many witnesses as possible, just in case he says the wrong thing and he gets murdered.

Thankfully, because it’s Monday, they’re doing a lab. Mrs. Finch _always_ starts the week with a lab, so Mason heads for the back row the moment he steps foot in class. It means that he continues past his boyfriend and best friend as they take up their usual seats. He knows it won’t look _entirely_ suspicious that he’s choosing not to sit with them, because one of them always gets pulled away to pair off with another classmate. Typically it’s Hayden, but, _well.._

It’s only when he reaches his destination that Liam looks back and shoots Mason a confused look. Which promptly switches outright _shock_ when Theo Raeken slides into his preferred seat, directly to his left. Liam probably thinks he’s gone insane. Mason thinks he’s probably right.

They both sit in complete silence as Finch begins the lesson, instructing them to start by turning on the burners in the middle of the table. When it flares to life between them with a flame that Mason thinks is just a _tad_ too tall, Theo finally speaks.

“So,” he says, skimming a finger through the flame quick enough to avoid being burned without even looking at it. “To what do I owe the pleasure, Hewitt?”

The fact that he’s staring directly at him, unblinking, makes Mason want to pack up and leave. Immediately. Every instinct in his fragile, non-sport playing body is telling him this is a terrible idea. He stomps on all of them, willing a smile to his lips. _This is for Liam’s benefit_.

“You’re always alone for labs,” Mason tells him as nonchalantly as possible, shrugging. “I figured I’d offer you a partner who knows what he’s doing.”

“We both know I can ace Biology with my eyes closed,” Theo says, and the look he’s wearing can only be described as predatory. His voice drops dangerously low. “So, want to tell me what you’re really doing here?”

_Deep breaths, Mason. You got this._

“Sooo,” he says, and curses how stupid he sounds. “You see my friend over there, Liam?”

Theo doesn’t glance over, merely raises a brow. So Mason presses on.

“Well, see, he’s a little down on his luck lately. He went through a rough breakup a little while ago, and he’s been pretty down in the dumps.” Mason fights the urge to wince at every absolutely cliche thing coming out of his mouth, but it just keeps coming, unbidden. “So, my boyfriend and I were thinking, maybe you could, ah—”

The other brow raises, and the corners of his lips tilt upwards slightly. “Help him get lucky?”

Mason chokes, sucks in too much air to recover, and promptly starts coughing. Theo laughs, while the younger boy doubles over, wheezing as he tries to settle himself. By the time he’s done, Mrs. Finch is standing next to their table.

“Everything alright, Mason?” She asks, suspicious gaze flickering between the two boys. Mason nods wordlessly. “Good. Then you should probably start your lab; you’re already behind.”

And with that, she walks off to hover over someone else. Mason glances up, and sees Corey and Liam staring back at him in concern. His boyfriend shoots him a puzzled _what are you doing_ look while his best friend’s looking at him like he might as well have grown another head. Mason smiles back awkwardly, waving.

As for the older boy, it seems he’s already lost his attention—he’s started mixing things together in a beaker. _Crap._

“I was thinking,” Mason tries again, scooting his stool closer. He doesn’t miss the way Theo’s shoulders tense. “You could take him out.”

“I think putting the poor bastard out of his misery’s a little extreme, don’t you?”

He knows from the way his upper lip curls that he’s kidding, but Mason still rushes to correct himself. “No! I mean like, on a _date.”_

Theo swirls the blue liquid in the container with a thin stick, then flicks it dry, placing the beaker on top of the flame. They lick up the sides, absolutely too high for whatever experiment it is they’re running. Mason stares, wide-eyed, and Theo seems to realize this because he’s reaching forward a moment later to turn it down.

He sets a timer on his phone, then turns to face Mason, expression neutral. “So, you want me to date him?”

“Yes,” Mason nods.

_“Me?”_ Theo points at himself for emphasis, then tosses a thumb in Liam’s direction. “And the anger management case?”

“Yes.” He can feel the tick in his jaw as he presses his lips together, trying not to react to the jab at his best friend.

The older boy smirks, and there’s a dangerous twinkle in his eyes. “What’s in it for me?”

Mason blinks. He hadn’t expected that. “What?”

Theo crosses his arms behind his head, leaning back. His foot hooks underneath the bar on Mason’s stool, allowing him to balance on the back legs of his own. “What makes taking Dunbar out on a date worth my time, exactly?”

“He’s a fantastic guy, and you’d be helping him out? Do you need another reason?” He sort of wishes he’d sent Corey to talk to him, because his patience is thinning by the second.

“You’re just not really selling him to me,” Theo shrugs, and he looks _incredibly_ pleased with himself when Mason responds with a scowl. On second thought, it’s probably better he didn’t send Corey. He feels as thought he’d be way too entertained they’d used the same phrase, and he’d simply never live it down.

Mason’s eyes drift towards his boyfriend, and as if he can feel the weight of his gaze, Corey glances over his shoulder a moment later to meet him. He offers him a reassuring grin, and a secretive thumbs up once he’s sure Liam’s not looking. Mason smiles, softly, before his attention is dragged to the far right. To Tracy and Josh’s table. They too, are watching the exchange, but with curious frowns and quiet whispers.

Mason watches as a ten dollar bill slips from one hand to the other, and a small light goes off in his head. He turns back to Theo, grinning ear to ear.

“What if I paid you?”

It wipes the smirk right off the older boy’s face, and he drops forward onto all four stool legs with a thump. “Excuse me?”

“To take him on a date. What if I paid you to do it?” Mason asks. The gears are spinning in his head. This could work.

“You know prostitution illegal, right?” Theo deadpans.

He makes a strangled noise in the back of his throat. “That’s not—I mean—” Theo barks out a laugh, and he stumbles his way through an explanation. “Dates are expensive! When you factor in dinner, movies, popcorn, drinks…”

The smirk returns. “Sounds pretty lowkey. What kind of boring date do you take me for, Hewitt?”

Mason frowns. “That’s what Corey and I do on Thursdays…”

“My point exactly.” The alarm on Theo’s phone goes off, and he moves to take the beaker off the fire, extinguishing it with the flick of a switch. He smiles when he sees that it’s turned green, so Mason assumes he’s done it correctly. Which, given that Theo’s top of this class, he probably has. He clears his throat.

“A hundred dollars.”

Theo freezes with his hand halfway to his phone. He shoots Mason an impressed look, both eyebrows raised again. “Per date?”

“Of course.”

“You _sure_ you’re not pimping out your best friend to me? Using Mommy and Daddy’s money? Because that’s kind of what this sounds like.” The smirk turns shit-eating at this point, and Mason feels the last ounce of his patience with the asshole evaporate. His eyes narrow.

“That’s my final offer. Take it or leave it.”

Theo’s finger swipes the alarm into silence, and then his hand reaches towards Mason in offering. “You’ve got your man.”

They shake on it.

* * *

_Dunbar’s damn good at lacrosse._ Logically, Theo figures he’d have to be, given that the guy’s team captain. From what he’s heard, he blew everybody else out of the water after transferring his sophomore year, and impressed Coach Finstock enough that he made him Scott’s assistant captain, who took a shine to him almost immediately.

Theo ignores the twinge of bitterness the thought produces, trying to focus on the younger boy as he darts between his teammates, weaving in and out. He’s fast, and light on his feet. Given that Theo has very little interest in the sport, and was sort of busy spiralling his junior year, this is actually the first time he’s seen the kid play.

He’s impressed, even if it’s only practice.

By the time the sun’s hanging low on the horizon, the Cyclones are packing up. From his spot halfway up the bleachers, Theo watches as a good portion of them head for the showers, while a few make a direct beeline for the parking lot. Liam, however, stays. Despite the fact that he was the first one on the pitch, he runs his own drills after his team has cleared out. There’s an excited little flutter in his stomach. Kid’s got stamina.

He stands, stretching languidly, then makes his way down the steps.

Theo knows the moment Liam spots him, mid-swing, because his shoulders lock up and his shot doesn’t hit the net with as much force as the ones before. He sees blue eyes flick his way for just a split-second, but then he’s picking up another ball with his stick and whipping it. It hits the net with a loud _whump_ , and Theo smirks.

“Hell of a swing, Dunbar,” he says, crossing his arms and leaning against the post.

“Thanks.” His response is gruff, and he dips to pick up another ball. When he lifts his lacrosse stick again, Liam raises a brow at him. “You sure you wanna stand there?”

Theo shrugs one shoulder. “I trust you.”

“You don’t even know me,” he frowns.

_Oh, this is gonna be fun._ Theo’s grin turns wolfish, and he pushes off the goalpost, coming to stand in front of Liam. He’s shorter than he expected—the difference isn’t much, but it’s enough for Theo’s head to tilt down slightly. “I’d certainly like to.” His voice comes out husky, and he doesn’t even attempt subtlety as his eyes flicker to the younger boy’s lips.

Liam’s grip tightens on his lacrosse stick, and his eyes widen, bright with surprise. They’re a gorgeous blue. “What?”

“Well, I noticed you had a hard time in Biology this morning. I take it it’s not your strong suit?” Theo licks his lips, taking a half-step forward into Liam’s personal space, watching with satisfaction as his gaze slides down to widen on them, before snapping back up. Theo doesn’t bother giving him time to answer before he breezes on. “I came to offer my services. Thought you might benefit from some private lessons.”

Liam’s gaze narrow slowly, his frown deepening with every second. “Are you...Are you hitting on me?”

The older boy laughs, breathy and light. This close, it ruffles the disheveled bangs on Liam’s forehead. “Glad you noticed, Dunbar,” he winks, leaning closer. He’s only a breath away, now, and he reaches out to tap the lacrosse stick. “So, what do you say? You game for a little one-on-one?”

This time, when Liam’s eyes widen, Theo can see a flash of panic in them. His cheeks flush to match his rapidly reddening ears, and the shorter boy stumbles back. “I don’t—I don’t know what gave you the idea that was _interested_ ,” Liam scowls, and the way he says it sounds like he’s implying something else entirely. He stumbles through the rest of the refusal messily, panicked; the pitch of his voice increasing as he steps further away from Theo. “I’m _not._ That’s—you’re not my—I’m, uh—”

The end of his lacrosse stick catches on the field, and he nearly trips backwards. His voice is shaky as he says, “No, thank you!” And then scurries off the pitch.

Theo is left blinking after him, brows slowly lowering into a frown. _What the fuck just happened?_ Sure, he’d been a little aggressive off the starting line, but that sort of thing nearly always got him what he wanted— _who_ he wanted. He’s hot, and he knows it; knows exactly how to play it to his advantage. Knows how to turn on the charm and sweet-talk his way in, or out, of anything.

Which means that either Dunbar is blind, or…

He catches sight of Mason and Corey hovering in the shadows by the bleachers, and anger bubbles up in his chest. He stomps across the field, and watches the way the couple exchanges slightly panicked looks at his approach. _Good._ His hands ball into fists at his side.

“So,” Mason starts, making a face, “How’d it go?’

_“Spectacularly,”_ Theo spits, and it’s all venom. Corey reaches out to wrap his fingers around his boyfriend’s wrist, offering support.

“I take it he said no?”

“Oh, he didn’t just say no. He said he wasn’t interested. _At all.”_ Theo’s voice drops dangerously low, and they both huddle together as he steps closer.

“We said he was down on his luck,” Mason points out, mouth quirking up into an awkward smile.

“Yeah, but you sort of failed to mention he wasn’t _gay!”_

Corey winces. “Mason,” he says patiently, shooting a look at his boyfriend. “What did you tell Theo when you asked for his help?”

“Not enough, clearly,” the older teen growls. “Look, I’m not sure what you two are playing at here, but I want no part in it, okay?”

Mason holds up his hands in defense, palms flat. “I’m sorry,” he pulls a face. “I didn’t tell you that he wasn’t comfortable with his sexuality, because that’s kind of the _point_ of all this.” Mason gestures to all of him, and Theo scowls.

“Excuse me?”

The boy closes his eyes and sighs, heavily. When he opens them, he looks far more determined. Like maybe he’s grown a backbone in the last six seconds. “Every one of Liam’s relationships has crashed and burned in the last two years. And they’ve been with girls that have fit a pretty specific type. And so, since I’ve been trying to get him to come out for _years_ , I thought finding him a guy that fit that type that was also hot—”

Theo glowers despite the compliment. “I’m not forcing myself on your friend just because you think it’s time he came out. If he’s not ready, that’s his decision—not yours.”

“He’s ready, trust me,” Mason says. “He’s just afraid of what his dad will think.”

“And the lacrosse team,” Corey adds.

“Aren’t _you_ on the lacrosse team?” Theo frowns, looking at the uniform the boy’s wearing.

“Yeah, but I fly under the radar,” he shrugs. “People don’t really tend to notice me.”

Theo opens his mouth to tell them that they’re both idiots, but Mason gets there first. “Look,” the boy starts, taking a deep breath. “I get that this makes things a little more complicated.” Theo snorts, but stays silent. “But I get the feeling you’re the kind of guy that likes a challenge.”

He could say no. He could walk away right now, and be done with this whole ridiculous plan of theirs. It could easily blow up in all their faces, and Theo knows full well he’d take the blame. Taking the next step in this dance would be stupid. But he thinks of the way Liam’s eyes had looked at him, so blue and so bright under the field lights; the way they’d flickered to his lips ever so briefly. He thinks of the way his pretty face had flushed when Theo had stepped too close, and finds himself wondering what it would look like if he _really_ tried to make the boy blush.

Theo shrugs, crossing his arms and smirking. “And money.”

Mason’s whole face lights up with a grin. “My man!” Corey shakes his head, smiling fondly. “He just needs a little push, okay? Trust me, I know Liam better than anyone and—”

This time, Corey’s eyes brighten, and he claps his hands together, smiling. “Mason, that’s it!”

“What?” They both look at the quiet boy, frowning.

“You know him best. You know what his favourite movies are, what games he plays, what his favourite food is,” Corey says. _“You’re_ Theo’s in with Liam! You can coach him into being the perfect date.”

“What makes you think I need help with that?” Theo huffs, mildly offended.

Mason looks unimpressed. “The fact that you just struck out?” Corey asks.

He scowls, looking between the two. After a moment, he rolls his eyes, and they both grin excitedly. He wonders, probably not for the first time, what the hell he’s gotten himself into.

* * *

Despite his best efforts to evade them, Mason and Corey corner him three times that week for _Dunbar 101_ lessons. First, Mason finds him smoking behind the gym during his free period on Tuesday, and awkwardly stands there waiting for him to tell Tracy and Josh to leave.

“You know smoking’s bad for you, right?” Mason wrinkles his nose.

Theo snorts, raising a brow. “Is it? Must’ve missed the memo.”

“Liam hates the smell of it.”

“Most people do.” He takes a long drag of the cigarette, blowing it in Mason’s direction. He glowers, crossing his arms. “You’ve got until this is done, teach. Better get talking.”

On Wednesday, Corey shows up in his study hall. Theo’s never seen him here before, and from the way Josh frowns at him over his chemistry textbook, he knows he’s _not_ supposed to be here. But they seem to be the only ones that notice as the kid shuffles into class and takes a seat with them, smiling warmly.

When the quiet boy waves at Josh across the table, he looks mildly uncomfortable and raises his book to block her view of him. Theo fights the grin that tugs at the corner of his lips.

It disappears when Corey slides a piece of paper towards him, covering the essay outline he’s meant to be doing for his history class. The one he’s redone several times, because he just can’t seem to get it right. He stares down at the list in front of him. It’s split into several sections. _Movies. Games. Books. Bands._ “What is this?”

“His favourite stuff,” Corey says, keeping his voice low. “Figured you might want something a little more tangible than just what Mason tells you, so I sat with him and wrote down everything he could think of.”

Theo shoots him a look. “You’re both insane. You know that, right?”

It doesn’t dampen the boy’s smile. He simply hums good-naturedly, and cracks open the notebook he’d pulled the list from, twirling a pen in his right hand. He pauses with the tip barely touching the page, and glances at the older boy. “What? It’s study hall.” Corey nods at the list. “Get studying.”

Theo rolls his eyes, but doesn’t go back to his term paper for the rest of the period.

When he survives Thursday and Friday unbothered, he figures maybe they’ll leave him in peace with the knowledge he has and let him figure out the rest himself. But he’s never been that lucky and he knows it.

He’s not even at _school_ when he gets cornered next, and it’s in the place he least expects it.

Saturday’s his shift at the bakery. They’re closed on Sundays, and while his sister was convinced one day off a week was enough for her, he’d insisted that her chore day wasn’t exactly a day off. So he’d offered to keep it open on Saturdays, to capitalize on all those hungry teenagers out and about in the warm weather, and give her a day to actually relax.

He hears the bell above the door ding, but knows that Tracy is puttering around out front, so he thinks nothing of it. At least until she appears in the doorway, face pinched like she’s uncomfortable. He straightens, frowning at her. “What’s wrong?”

“Someone’s here to see you.”

Theo frowns, and waits, expecting her to elaborate. When she simply stares back at him, he rolls his eyes and holds out the tube of icing towards her. She takes it from with a gleeful twinkle in her eyes. “Try not to eat all of it this time. It’s for the cupcakes, not your face.”

She snorts, slipping past him and bumping him with her hip to get him out of the way. As he makes for door, he glances back to see her swipe at the tube with her thumb, sticking chocolate icing into her mouth. “Tracy!”

“Okay, okay,” she mutters, and then continues where he’d left off. He wipes his hands on his apron and steps through the curtain to the front of the shop.

“Welcome to _Queen of Tarts_ ,” Theo says, “How can I—”

Mason stands there, face pressed against the display as he stares at all the cakes and pastries, grinning ear to ear. It stops him in his tracks, and he groans. “What are you doing here?”

“These are awesome!” Mason says, voice muffled by the glass. “Did you seriously make all these yourself?”

“You’re smudging the display case,” Theo snaps. Fingerprints are a damn bitch to clean from that thing. Mason pulls his eyes away, and they flicker up to meet him.

A laugh bubbles from his throat. “Oh, man! You know this totally ruins your bad boy image, right?”

“Shut up,” he glares, taking a menacing step towards the other boy. He shrinks back, looking panicked as his hands fly up at his sides, defensively.

“Just kidding!” Mason’s smile turns shaky.

“What do you want?” Theo tries again, this time sounding far less patient.

“I was just leaving the store across the street and getting into my car when I saw the sign out front.” He throws a thumb over his shoulder for emphasis. “Your sister’s name is under it.”

“That sometimes happens when someone owns a business.”

Mason beams at him. “Really? That’s awesome!”

Theo resists the urge to groan. “Was there a point to this visit, or did you come over just to annoy me?”

The grin widens dramatically, and Theo knows he’s in trouble. “Well, you see, I haven’t got a musical bone in my body. But my buddy Liam sure does. And on Saturdays, he works at _Strings and Things_ to earn some cash for his dream guitar.”

His eyes narrow. They both know that music store is directly across the street. “I’m working.”

“I noticed.” Mason looks him up and down, then pulls his wallet from his pocket. “How much for a box of those butter tarts? They’re like, the house special, right?”

“And Liam’s favourite,” Theo points out, tone hesitant. Mason’s eyes glitter with joy, and the hair on the back of his neck stands up. “Twenty dollars.”

He brandishes the correct bill. “I also noticed you do deliveries,” Mason continues, pointing at the sign on the counter that does, in fact, say they deliver upon request.

Theo’s face twists into a scowl. “You wouldn’t.”

Mason’s smile is anything but innocent as he places a second bill on the counter. Theo stares at it for a moment, wishing for all the world that looks could kill, before sighing. He unties the apron, whipping it angrily onto the back counter and grabbing a take away box. Theo piles twelve tarts into it, then glances over his shoulder. “Hey, Tracy? I’ll be right back. Delivery!”

“Whatever, T.”

He rolls his eyes, muttering: “At least she’s free help.”

“I can watch the counter for you,” Mason says cheerfully.

“Just don’t fucking touch anything,” Theo growls, then stomps out of the store. He crosses the street in a huff, barely taking the time to check for traffic, and winces at the happy little jingle that greets him inside the opposite store.

He’s never actually been in here before, despite working across the street for over a year and a half now. The place is bigger than he expects. There’s two rows of tables on either side of him, with a lane straight down the middle of the store. The boxes atop are filled with records to his left, and CDs to his right. There’s tons of recording equipment along one wall, while guitars of all shapes and colours hang down the other.

There’s only a handful of people in the store, but he spots Liam almost immediately. He’s talking animatedly to an older woman by a drum set in the very back. He’s not too far from the counter, but Theo figures he can walk up, drop the box off, and get out unnoticed.

He’s halfway there when he’s reminded that today is not his lucky day.

There’s a young girl looking at a small, black three-quarter acoustic guitar with her mother to his right. “Don’t you want something a little more...girly, sweetheart?” She asks, frowning down at her daughter. “What about the one there, with the flowers?”

“No! I want this one!” The girl shouts, stomping her foot and tugging on her mother’s perfectly manicured hand. The move’s a little aggressive, and clearly catches the woman off-guard, because she stumbles after her—and knocks her bony elbow right into Theo’s ribs.

He inhales sharply, balancing the box in one hand as best he can, swaying on his feet. Pain flares in his left hip as it smacks into the table, wobbling the box of CDs, and Theo curses. “Fuck! Watch it, will you?”

The woman gives him a dirty look, hands flying to cover her daughter’s ears. “Such inappropriate language when children are around.”

“I’m sure she’s heard worse from you and your husband,” he smirks, and the woman flushes. He can’t tell if it’s anger or embarrassment. He doesn’t care.

“Everything all right over here?” A voice says tightly. Theo’s eyes find Liam’s blue ones narrowed at him, and far closer than he was a moment ago. His arms are crossed, and he’s looking between the two.

“This young man knocked into me _very_ rudely,” the woman says hotly, pulling her daughter against her. The little girl giggles.

“Actually, she—” Theo starts, but Liam shoots him an even dirtier look that the lady that has his mouth clamping shut.

“Sorry about him,” Liam says to the woman a split-second later, smiling kindly as he turns to face her. “He’s not great with people.”

“Obviously.” Her tone is clipped, and Theo resists the urge to upend the box of tarts on her.

“How about a ten percent discount for the trouble?” Liam smiles, hands on his knees as he bends over to look at the little girl. “You want the black one, right?”

“Yes, please!” The girl says before her mother can object. The woman’s scowling again, and Theo finds a sick sort of satisfaction in watching the way she glares at the back of Liam’s head as he plucks the guitar off the wall. She doesn’t say a word as she follows him to the counter to pay, not even a thank you as he hands her the receipt and wishes her a good day.

It’s not until they’re out of the store that Theo realizes the old woman has vanished, leaving them alone. _Shit_.

Liam stops two feet from him, hands shoved into his pockets.

“You know she bumped into me, right?” Theo defends himself, though he’s not sure why.

“I know,” Liam says. “Why do you think I went with the kid’s choice instead of hers?”

Theo fights the urge to smile. “Thanks, Dunbar.”

Liam ignores it, choosing instead to frown at him, tilting his head in a way that sort of reminds Theo of a puppy. “What are you doing here?”

He holds out the box in his right hand. “Delivery.”

Cautiously, Liam takes it from him, gaze scanning over the label. “This is from the place across the street.” His eyes flick up, assessing. “You work there?”

“Yeah,” Theo nods. Then adds, though he’s not sure why: “My sister owns it.”

Liam considers him a moment, then half-shrugs, flipping the box open. His eyes widen immediately with wonder, and he slams the box shut. This time, when he looks at Theo, there’s something like awe written on his face. “These are my favourite. How did you…?”

When Theo opens his mouth, it’s to tell the truth. After all, the kid would be pretty stupid not to put two and two together when his best friend had left maybe ten minutes ago, and then Theo had waltzed in with his preferred treat, when he’s literally never stepped foot in here.

Instead, something else comes out. “I’ve seen you in the shop before. I help out on weeknights, sometimes, in the back. I...I wanted to apologize for the other day. I was out of line.”

Liam stares at him, blinking, and Theo hopes like hell that unlike him, the shorter boy has actually crossed the damn street before. He hopes there’s some traction to his lie, because otherwise he’s about to embarass himself horribly. And he actually _cares_ that he might.

“Oh. Well, thanks,” Liam says finally, and Theo lets go of the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. He watches him shift awkwardly from one foot to another. “So, um, is that it?”

The words tumblr forth before he can stop them. “What are you doing tomorrow?”

The awkward look sours immediately. “You’re apologizing for hitting on me by hitting on me again? Really?”

Theo’s hands fly up at his sides defensively. “No! No, that’s—I’m not hitting on you this time, I swear.” Liam looks unsure. “I _promise._ I just… I got caught up in the moment, and thought it would be fun to mess with you. But I was serious about offering my help with Biology, okay?”

The other boy’s forehead pinches into a frown. He can see the suspicion written clearly across his face. “Why?”

Theo bites at the inside of his cheek, fighting the words. Corey’s list hovers in the back of his mind, taunting him. A moment later, they’re slipping past his lips with a sigh. “I need your help, too. I’ve got a term paper due in a couple weeks, and I’ve barely written the opening paragraph.”

“Really?” He snickers. _“You’re_ having trouble bullshitting an essay?”

“It’s not an essay. It’s a History paper.”

_This_ catches Liam’s attention. Theo watches as his eyes brighten, his lips curving into a smile. “I love History!”

“Really?” Theo parrots, smirking. “Wouldn’t have figured, what with you being top of our class.”

Liam’s giving that considering look again, head tilted. His eyes flicker to the box of tarts in his hands, then back up. “Okay.”

“Okay?” Theo blinks, hiding a hopeful tone.

“I’ll help you write your paper, if you help me pass Biology.”

The smile that stretches across his lips is genuine this time. “Deal.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It has come to my attention since posting this that uh, butter tarts are a strictly Canadian thing. I didn't realize ya'll didn't have any in other places so THIS is what Liam got a box of: https://tinyurl.com/y9wfezye


	2. the job

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for your listening pleasure: Parachute by Neck Deep is meant to played during the end scene. super huge thanks to skaboom for the beta!

It goes great for two weeks. They meet up after school most nights, always at Liam’s house, and always after dinner. Some nights he has books already prepared with references for Theo’s paper, other nights, the older boy brings flash cards and his Biology textbook.

By the middle of the second week, they don’t spend nearly as much time studying or writing. Instead, halfway through the evening, Liam groans, dropping the chart he’s filling out off of his lap as he leans back on his bed, rubbing his eyes.

“I think I might be going cross-eyed,” he whines, eliciting a look from Theo, who’s lying on his stomach, flipping through a new book Liam lent him on the American Revolution.

“The circulatory system will do that to you if you’re not careful.” His shoulder bumps against Liam’s leg as he grins.

“I just don’t understand why there’s so many little fucking _tubes_ that actually have names. Who needs to know this shit?”

“Doctors. Cardiovascular surgeons, specifically,” Theo points out, and Liam groans.

“Okay, but _I_ don’t. This is painful.” He looks at Theo through his fingers. “How do you remember all this stuff without notes?”

Theo shrugs. “I’ve always been interested in the human body.”

Liam’s eyebrows rise up into his hairline.

“Not like that! Fuck, Dunbar,” Theo snorts, but finds his cheeks flushing. “I wanted to be a doctor when I was a little kid.”

The younger boy’s gaze softens.

“Oh. That’s pretty cool.” He frowns a little, like he’s noticed something he doesn’t understand. “Do you not want to be, anymore?”

The question catches Theo off-guard and he chokes. “What?”

“You said _wanted_ instead of want,” Liam says, and that adorable head tilt is back. Theo finds it _very_ alarming that he thinks of it as such. He also finds this line of questioning alarming, if he’s being honest. It’s not really a future he’s thought of in over a year. Something twists painfully in his chest.

Theo pulls himself into a sitting position, looking away. “I’m not really sure anymore, to be honest.”

He can feel Liam’s eyes on him. He probably expects him to elaborate but Theo can’t bring himself to explain. He doesn’t even know where he’d start, really.

_With their death, obviously,_ a voice in his head helpfully supplies, and it sounds a lot like a more bitter version of himself. The kind of person he was junior year, when he set his life on fire and dropped out of school. Theo ignores it.

When he doesn’t answer Liam’s question, the other boy leans forward, slamming the history book shut. “Okay! I think that’s enough work for one night,” he declares loudly, sliding off the bed. Theo closes his eyes, sighing.

_Good job, idiot._

He reaches for his things, beginning to pack them into his bag. A moment later, he hears Liam’s voice from behind him.

“What are you doing?”

Theo turns to find him standing next to his TV, looking confused. There’s an Xbox controller in each hand, and a game blaring through the speakers.

“I didn’t mean you had to leave,” Liam says, and his smile’s a little unsure as he holds one remote out. “I figured we could use a break, that’s all.”

If the ache in his chest lessens when he reaches to accept the offer, fingers brushing against Liam’s warm ones, Theo pretends not to notice.

* * *

It becomes routine after that. Every study or tutoring session wraps up earlier than before, and they end up playing video games, sometimes watching a movie, until Liam lets out a yawn too many and Theo calls it a night.

He’s not exactly sure when he lost sight of the job. He knows he has, because despite the wad of bills tucked safely into his desk drawer at home, he hasn’t taken Liam on a single date. They haven’t even hung out outside of the boy’s house, and they don’t talk at school. They nod when they cross each other in the hallway, but that’s it.

Mason and Corey haven’t asked him about it in over a week. The last time they did, Mason had just grinned at him knowingly until Theo had threatened to punch the look off his face, and that had been the end of that. He supposes he should feel bad about not doing what they asked of him with the end of the school looming on the horizon, but he’s grown used to this strange, companionable friendship blossoming between him and Liam. It takes him back to a time long before the accident, when things were better. When _he_ was better. When he had friends.

It’s not that Josh and Tracy aren’t his friends, because they are. They wouldn’t offer to help out at Tara’s bakery on Saturdays, unpaid, if they weren’t, but sometimes he thinks they’re a little dull, and extremely bitter. He knows they’re not the greatest people, knows that they fit well with the person he became right before dropping out; the person he’s been since coming back to school to finish his senior year.

The problem is, of course, that he’s pretty sure that’s not the person who’s been hanging out with Liam Dunbar, laughing until he’s got tears in his eyes over dumb jokes and stupid movies, or grinning ecstatically whenever he gets the upper hand in a one-on-one match, like right now.

He’s in the middle of the warehouse district, crouched behind a stack of boxes, waiting for his target to find him. To his left, Liam’s muttering under his breath, jabbing at the buttons on his controller. “Goddammit, where are you?”

Theo snickers. “Hiding.”

“Yeah, but fucking where?” Liam growls. “I don’t recognize it.”

“Hey, quit looking at my screen, cheater!” Theo nudges him with his shoulder, and Liam sticks out his tongue.

“It’s my screen, too.”

“It’s split down the middle.”

“So?” Liam shrugs, before returning to glaring at the TV. When Theo looks back, his eyes unintentionally glance at the left half, and he feels a smile spread across his lips. He’s right outside.

His character stands, walking over the the doorway on the other side of the boxes, and shoots Liam’s character in the back, splattering him against the pavement.

“Goddammit, Theo! How did you even—” His eyes are a burning blue when the older boy turns to smirk at him. His face twists with surprised anger. “You fucking cheater!”

“It’s my screen, too,” Theo parrots.

Liam shoves him off the bed, and the breath wooshes out of him when he hits the carpet, hard. “Asshole.”

“Worth it!” Theo cackles from the floor. Liam’s head appears over the edge, blinking down at him.

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” he nods.

“Good.” A moment later, a pillow smacks him in the face.

By the time his laughter dies down and he stands, tossing the pillow back onto the bed, the TV’s off. Liam’s yawning, arms stretching high above his head. It pulls the hem of his shirt up just a little, revealing an expanse of toned skin Theo’s eyes are instinctively drawn to. He has to force his gaze to move on to the clock on the other boy’s bedside, and winces when he sees the time. “Later than I thought. Call it a night?”

“I think so.” He nods, and so Theo starts packing up his things. He’s shoving the last book into his bag when Liam speaks again. “What are you doing tomorrow night?”

Theo freezes. Tomorrow is Friday. They never hang out on Fridays. Liam has lacrosse, and he’s never in the mood for schoolwork after practice, let alone a game. And Theo knows full well tomorrow night’s the Championship game against Devenford Prep, despite not having a any interest in the sport.

“Theo?”

Well, maybe _one_ interest.

“Uh, other than the usual degeneracy? Nothing, I think.” He zips his bag shut, swinging it onto his shoulder and turning around. Liam’s sitting in the middle of his bed, but he’s not looking at him. “Why?”

“Championship game,” Liam says, staring at the hands folded in his lap. “You going?”

“I was thinking about making an appearance.”

He wasn’t.

“Cool, cool.” Theo holds his breath as Liam bites at his bottom lip, nodding his head. He looks up suddenly, and the air knocks right out of him. His blue eyes twinkle with something that Theo can’t quite place, and there’s a shaky smile on his lips. “Do you like parties?”

“Is the sky blue?” Theo grins easily, and that seems to settle the other boy’s nerves, because his shoulders loosen a little. “As long as there’s free booze, I’m listening.”

“Gwen’s throwing an after-party at her house to celebrate.”

“Don’t you normally have to win before you plan celebrations?”

“We’re _going_ to win.” Liam shoots him a dirty look.

“Sound pretty confident.”

“We’re top in the league. This game should be a cakewalk.”

Theo shrugs. “Wouldn’t know.”

A small, indignant noise exit’s Liam’s mouth, and he manages to look downright offended. “Have you never been to a game?”

“Haven’t had a reason to.”

“Well, now you do,” Liam says with finality, touching his thumb to his chest. “You’re coming.”

“To the game or to the party?” Theo smirks.

There’s a determined gleam in Liam’s eyes.

“Both.”

* * *

The Cyclones win 5-4. Liam scores three goals, including the winning shot. Theo’s throat is raw by the time everyone’s cleared off the field, and the team’s headed off to the showers. He makes his way down the bleachers when he catches sight of the captain lingering, scanning the crowd for him.

“You came!” Liam exclaims when he makes his way over, hands shoved into the pockets of his sweater. Theo shrugs, folding back the hood he’d hidden under all game, hoping none of his classmates would take notice of him. He has a reputation to uphold, afterall.

“Did I have a choice?”

“Not really,” Liam laughs. “I probably would’ve kicked your ass if you hadn’t.”

“Like you could reach.”

Liam rolls his eyes. “Shut up. I’m not that short.”

“Shorter than me,” Theo snickers, and watches the other boy scowl at him. He’s way too easy.

He looks up when he sees movement over Liam’s shoulder, and spots Mason and Corey hovering not far away, watching.

“Your fan club’s waiting for you.”

Liam glances behind him. “For both of us, actually.”

“What?” He’s not sure he likes the sound of that. Or the way they’re both grinning at him when Liam turns back.

“They’re going to the party, too,” he says matter-of-factly. “Mason figured we could all go together.”

“Did he now?” Theo resists the urge to throw a glare at Mason, considering that Liam’s looking right at him. “Well, you should probably stop offending me with your smell and hit the showers then.”

“Yeah, yeah. We’ll meet you in the parking lot?” Liam shakes his head, flipping him off as he turns away, heading towards the locker room entrance. Corey falls into step beside him, clapping him on the back as they disappear inside...

...Leaving Theo alone with Mason.

He stays blissfully quiet until they reach Theo’s truck.

“So,” he pipes up, “I don’t think I’ve seen you at a lacrosse game before. Weird, huh?”

“Freak accident. Got lost on my way home.” Theo shrugs, pressing the button to unlock the doors. He digs his pack of smokes out of his gym bag, throwing clothes all over his backseat in the process. He doesn’t know what makes him do it, but he pokes his head around the open door, peering at Mason. “Am I driving?”

“That would be great!” He says brightly.

Theo regrets everything.

He shoves all the clothes back into the bag, then stuffs it under the driver’s seat. Slamming the door shut, he pockets the pack of smokes after he pulls one free, sticking it between his lips. Theo leans back against the grill of his truck and tries to ignore the way Mason’s still smiling at him.

He caves before the lighter is even halfway to his lips. “What?”

“He likes you.”

Theo raises a brow at him. “What makes you say that?”

“He looked for you every time he scored a goal tonight.”

“He scored a lot of goals.” Theo shrugs.

“Exactly!” Mason says, like that means something. Theo thinks his grin is rapidly approaching the brightness of the field lights, and he wants it stop, immediately. He lights his cigarette, blowing the smoke from the first drag in the other boy’s direction. He’s rewarded with Mason’s pinched face when he waves it out of the way, but it doesn’t seem to have deterred him. “He invited you to the party, huh?”

“This is what you wanted, isn’t it?” Theo says, keeping his tone neutral. “I’m just doing my job.”

“Oh, I know.” He doesn’t like the gleam in Mason’s eyes.

Theo pulls his gaze away at the sound of footsteps and takes another drag of his cigarette, blowing it into the air above him. When he returns to eye-level, Liam and Corey are approaching. The latter is smiling, eyes twinkling with joy as he makes his way over to his boyfriend, but the former...

Liam’s frowning at him.

“What?” Theo asks, blowing smoke down and to his left as politely as possible.

“You smoke?” He asks, and his nose wrinkles just the slightest bit.

“Occasionally.” He hears the truck doors open and shut, indicating that the others have gotten in, leaving them alone and out of earshot. Theo knows it’s stupid, but he finds himself asking the other boy: “Is that a problem?”

“It’s gross.” Liam shrugs, like it’s not a big deal, but his tone gives it away, as does the intensity of his glare. It’s disapproving, and more than a little disgusted. “Your funeral, I guess.”

Theo doesn’t break his gaze as he takes another drag, barely adjusting his lips to blow it away from them. Liam’s familiar scowl settles on his face, but there’s something off about it. “It’s probably an unhealthy habit for a doctor to have, anyway.”

He inhales too sharply, and the smoke sears painfully against the back of his throat. He fights the reflex to cough, clamping his mouth shut and forcing everything out his nose. His nostrils burn, and suddenly there’s a bitter taste in his mouth that has everything and nothing to do with the cigarette.

It hangs loosely in his fingertips as he stares at Liam. Blue eyes stare right back, darkened by something Theo can’t quite make out. He drops the barely-smoked cigarette to the ground and stomps it out. When he looks back up, Liam’s already making his way around the truck to the passenger seat.

But Theo doesn’t miss the smile on his lips.

* * *

The music’s loud and the party’s in full swing by the time they get there. There's Cyclone banners and red and white decorations everywhere, and the distinct smell of sweaty teenagers and beer.

Despite that fact that Theo lied when he told Liam he liked parties, the four of them have a good time. They stick close, and Theo and Mason take care of getting them drinks, seeing as Liam and Corey can barely move through the house without someone tackling them with congratulatory hugs and cheers.

It’s hard to hear them over the music, talking animatedly about the game, but Theo knows they’re happy. _Liam’s_ happy. He’s finished his high school lacrosse career on a high note, and Theo’s sure that if they haven’t already, the scholarships will be pouring in. He played his heart out and had fun, and it shows in the way he’s still buzzing with an upbeat energy; the way his eyes glitter with joy.

At least for the first hour and a half.

They’re in the middle of comparing favourite bands and Theo’s surprised to find that despite knowing all the answers already, Liam’s pleased they’ve got quite a few in common. The song changes to something cheesy and mainstream, and they both groan, rolling their eyes.

The smile is gone from Liam’s face when he looks back at him. Instead, there’s a scowl unlike anything Theo’s ever seen before. It’s worse than the one he’d given him the day he’d approached him after practice and hit on him, and there’s an angry tick to his jaw. Thankfully, it’s directed over Theo’s shoulder, and not at him.

He turns, and finds two people huddled together by the stereo, clearly responsible for the garbage assaulting their ears. The girl is blushing and giggling, averting her gaze from the taller boy that towers over her, leaning his arm on the wall by her head. There’s a flirty smile on his lips as he leans down to whisper in her ear, tucking her hair back behind it. Theo doesn’t recognize him, but he sure as hell knows the girl.

Hayden Romero, Liam’s ex-girlfriend.

“Dunbar…” His gaze flicks back to Liam just in time to see him finish chugging his beer. He wipes at his mouth with the back of his hand, eyes dark and stormy, then stands abruptly. “I’m going to get another drink.”

And he stomps off without waiting for a response.

Theo fully intends to follow, but then Mason and Corey are stumbling over to him from the dance floor, laughing and wrapped around one another. They tumble into the spot Liam left vacant, beaming at him. Theo shakes his head at them, hiding the upturn of his lips by taking a sip of his beer. He tries not to wrinkle his nose; it’s cheap and tastes sort of flat.

“You two having fun?”

“A blast!” Mason beams at him, but Corey’s response is muffled from where it’s tucked into his boyfriend’s neck. “What about you two? You haven’t come to dance with us yet!”

“Not really my style,” Theo shrugs.

Mason pouts, and looks around the couch he’s sitting on, obviously looking for Liam. “What about—” He frowns. “Where’s Liam?”

“Went to get himself another drink,” Theo says, polishing off the rest of his own. He throws a thumb over his shoulder. “After seeing _that.”_

He sees the moment Mason notices them. Even in his somewhat drunken state, the boy stiffens, shoulders tensing and face twisting into an unhappy frown. “Shit.” His tone seems to draw Corey out of his cuddly, drunken stupor, because he looks up, searching for the source of his boyfriend’s discomfort. And then he curses, too.

“Yeah.”

The look doesn’t soften when Mason glances to Theo. “And you let him go off _alone?”_

Theo’s already on his feet, not able to help the glare that blooms on his face. “I was going to follow him, but then you two showed up.”

This time he’s the one not waiting for an answer before he stomps off in search of Liam.

* * *

It takes Theo sixty-five fucking minutes to find the little shit, his patience with the population of Beacon Hills High thinning with every second that ticks by. Along with his buzz.

He gets hit on three times, gets offered drugs at least twice (he’s still not sure if the second guy was talking about drugs or pizza, honestly, and feels like he should know the answer, but doesn’t care), and gets a drink spilled on him once. He swears he’s searched the whole goddamn house and he’s practically growling at everyone in his path, furiously wondering why the fuck he lied to Liam and told him he liked parties when he in fact fucking despises them, when he finally finds him.

Or, well, Tracy finds Theo, carrying his answer between pursed lips. She materializes out of thin air at his side, slipping between two lacrosse players. Her fingers curl around his elbow and her face pinches with intense dislike. “He’s on the roof.”

Theo blinks at her, his anger evaporating in the face of confusion. “What?”

“Your boyfriend,” she says, swirling the liquid around in her cup, not looking at him. Whatever she’s drinking smells foul, and Theo’s nose wrinkles even at a distance.

“What?” He says again, and this time his tone is dangerously low, daring her to repeat herself.

The grin she sends up over the edge of her cup as she takes a sip is practically feline. “Dunbar went up to the roof ten minutes ago. You’ve been _just_ missing each other for the last hour.”

“And you didn’t think to tell me sooner?” He shakes her hand off his arm, glaring down at her.

Tracy shrugs. “Entertainment.”

He clenches his fists. This is why he hates his friends sometimes. They’d just as soon piss him off as be useful to him. “Which way, Tracy?”

“He took those stairs, master bedroom.” She points, and Theo turns to see the main staircase just off the living room. “Might want to hurry; boyfriend looked pretty drunk.”

“He’s not my—” Theo turns back mid-snarl, but she’s already gone. If his search hadn’t completely sobered him, he might’ve thought he imagined her, honestly.

He climbs the stairs two at a time, the idea of a drunk Liam and a rooftop filling his chest with a cold panic he doesn’t like. His heartbeat pounds in his ears, threatening to burst through his chest if he doesn’t move faster.

Theo knows which one is the master bedroom, because he’s been up here twice already to look. He opens the first door on his left, and immediately regrets rushing into the room. “Oh, for fuck’s sake!” He curses, screwing his eyes shut to avoid seeing as much as he can of the two teenagers on the bed in various states of undress.

“Do you _mind?”_ The one girl says shrilly.

“Join ussss?” The other one giggles drunkenly.

“Out. Now!” He yells, and throws every ounce of anger and impatience into his voice. It seems to do the trick, because he hears them shuffle around; hears the sound of clothing rustling.

“Asshole,” one of them hisses as she slips past him. He rolls his eyes when he deems it safe to re-open them, and slams the door shut behind them. He hits the lock _like they should have done_ and heads for the window.

The latch is already undone, so it lifts up easily. As he climbs through it, he spots the screen to his right, leaning against the outside of the house. For a moment, he thinks at least Liam has enough sense in him to manage that, but then he notices the frame is bent in one place, the mesh sticking up in a distinct foot shape.

Theo can’t help but laugh.

It dies when he spots Liam, though. He’s perched further down the roof, tips of his shoes poking off the edge. There’s a crumpled red cup behind him, and a bottle of vodka in his hands. Slowly, carefully, Theo pads over and sits down next to him. The second their knees knock together, Liam glances over, and his face splits in a grin.

“Theo!” He says happily. His cheeks are flushed and his eyes sort of glassy. “Where have you been all night?”

“Looking for you, dumbass,” Theo chuckles, all his earlier anger evaporating in the face Liam’s utter joy at seeing him. He stares at him, trying to asses just how drunk the other boy is, and his eyes flick down to the bottle to find it more than half gone already. Theo thinks he’d be impressed if there wasn’t unfamiliar concern brewing in the pit of his stomach.

“That’s not very nice,” Liam pouts, brows furrowing. Theo’s sure he’s trying for offended, but mostly he just looks constipated. “You’re usull—usuas—”

“Usually?” Theo offers, brow raising.

“That! You’re usually nicer!”

“No, I’m really not.”

Liam considers it a moment, then shrugs, bringing the bottle up for a drink. Theo reaches for it, stopping it an inch from Liam’s lips with a patient smile. “Maybe you should let me have that,” he says, “since you’re pretty drunk.”

“As a skunk!” Liam cheers, and the sudden movement has one of his feet slipping off the edge. Theo lunges for him, having to grab the back of Liam’s hoodie with one hand and sliding his leg halfway under the other boy’s knees to stop him from sliding any further. Liam blinks at him, looking from the bottle in other Theo’s hand, to their legs twisted together. “Oh. Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it,” Theo says, then forcibly drags him backwards until he’s a reasonable distance from the edge. He sets the bottle of vodka down to his right, while his left hand settles on Liam’s back. “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” Liam replies, nodding. “I’m—”

He pauses, clamping his mouth shut abruptly. Theo starts rubbing soothing circles on his back, and hopes like hell he isn’t going to puke, because he really doesn’t want to deal with that. Not for all the money in Mason’s bank account. “You’re not okay.”

“Maybe.” He takes a deep breath, glancing upwards. When he opens his eyes, he smiles up at the sky, head tilting back further and further until he’s going down, taking Theo’s hand with him. He sees to notice the moment he lies back against the roof that he does so on top of Theo’s hand and frowns, wiggling.

Theo tries very hard not to laugh. Liam leans to one side, digging Theo’s hand out as his face scrunches up in a far more docile version of his typical scowl. He goes to pull back, but Liam doesn’t let go, staring up at Theo’s hand in his. His gaze dances up Theo’s arm and back to the boy in question, and he smiles.

He gives Theo’s hand an aggressive tug, and then he’s falling onto his back next to Liam, his arm tucked beneath the younger boy’s head. Seemingly content with what he’s accomplished, Liam smiles softly up at the sky.

“Thanks. I just need to lie down for awhile.”

“You do you, kid,” Theo chuckles.

Liam frowns. “I’m not a kid.” The petulant tone kind of ruins it, but Theo lets him have it.

They lapse into comfortable silence, Theo not daring to speak much less breathe for fear of breaking whatever strange spell has befallen the other boy. This is the closest he’s allowed them to get since they started hanging out, Theo never pushing for more than what Liam gives him. Knees touching when they sit cross-legged on Liam’s bed to study, or shoulders knocking together when they game; the limit on their physical contact has grown in recent weeks as Liam gets more comfortable around him, seemingly dropping his guard.

Apparently, alcohol drops it entirely.

He doesn’t even realize Liam’s fallen asleep until he hears snoring.

“Oh, great,” he mutters. He pushes at Liam’s shoulder with his free hand, but doesn’t get a response. He tries to pull his arm free, but it’s no use, the other boy’s not budging. “Hey, idiot. Wake up.”

He pushes him again, this time rougher. Still nothing. He takes a deep breath, wills patience to him, and then tucks himself next to Liam’s face, his breath ghosting over his ear. “WAKE UP!”

He jolts up, eyes flying open. “Buh!” He has a split second to look startled before his whole body sways, and his face pales. Theo rises to meet him, knowing full well what’s coming before Liam drops forward onto his knees, crawling for the edge of the roof.

“Liam!” Theo panics, reaching out and grabbing hold of his ankle. “Fuck.”

He watches the guy empty the contents of his stomach over the side of the house, fingers scrambling for purchase on the roof tiles. As soon as he’s done, Theo yanks on his ankle, dragging him backwards and out of sight.

“Don’t _ever_ do that again.” His voice is low and sort of raspy after yelling. And Liam...Liam’s just fucking blinking owlishly at him, like he’s grown another head. Like _he’s_ the one who’s just done something insane. “What?”

“You called me Liam.”

Theo freezes. Had he? _Shit._ “It’s your name, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, but you never use it,” he says quietly. “You call me Dunbar. Or idiot, or dumbass, or _kid.”_

All things he’s used to keep his distance, to refrain from attachment. There’s a warmth in his fingers, which are still pressed against the exposed skin of Liam’s ankle. It’s strangely intimate, and Theo jerks back as if burnt. _Play it cool, Raeken._ “Must’ve have misheard me,” he shrugs. “You’re pretty drunk.”

Liam scowls, and it’s familiar in a way that chases away the _something_ tightening uncomfortably in Theo’s chest. “Not _that_ drunk.”

He levels an unimpressed stare at the shorter boy. “You just puked off a roof, after falling asleep on it for ten minutes. I’d say you are.”

Liam frowns, quietly contemplating it. He doesn’t say anything after a moment, so Theo considers it a win. He pushes himself to his feet, offering his hand to the kneeling boy.

“C’mon,” he says patiently. “I think it’s time to get you home.”

“What? Noooo.” Liam shakes his head vigorously, but still takes Theo’s hand, allowing himself to be pulled to his feet. He sways in place, and then promptly topples forward into Theo’s shoulder.

He grunts as Liam knocks the wind out of him. Shaking his head, he slips an arm around the shorter boy’s waist, and starts for the window. He awkwardly stuffs him through it, and sighs when Liam tumbles and lands in a heap on the floor on the other side. “Ow.”

“For the love of—could you not be made of jello for five minutes, please?” Theo gripes, crawling through the window and helping Liam to his feet for the second time in as many minutes. He drapes the drunk boy’s arm around his shoulders, hunching slightly to be at the same height, supporting most of his weight as they leave the room. The party is still thumping downstairs.

He feels Liam bury his face into his shoulder. “I don’t wanna go down there. I’m too drunk.”

“No kidding.”

_"Theooo,"_ he pouts. “Everyone will see!”

Theo doesn’t see why it’s a big deal. Teenagers get shitfaced, it happens. And he’s captain of the lacrosse team that just won Championships. He’s more than allowed to celebrate.

But then he looks them over, sees the way Liam’s pressed against him, sees the red dusting the other boy’s cheeks that he’d simply attributed to his inebriated state, and wonders. Wonders if maybe Liam doesn’t want to be seen coming downstairs with _him_ in _this_ state, knowing how it might look.

He mulls over the idea that pops into his head for only a moment before he tugs off his hoodie and holds it out to Liam. “Put this on.” He makes no move to take it, and Theo groans. “It’ll be big on you, and it has a hood. You can hide in it.”

Liam’s face lights up. “Good idea!” He pulls it on, and stretches his arms out, wiggling his fingers beneath the fabric of the too-long sleeves. It’s always been loose on Theo to begin with, because it’s old and stretched out, but Liam somehow manages to look _small_ in it. He fights the flare of something warm in his chest at the sight.

Liam’s nose wrinkles. “It smells.”

Never mind, no fuzzy feelings here. “Thanks,” Theo says drily.

“No, not _you._ You smell good,” Liam says, face pinching suddenly as if he hadn’t meant to say it. He ducks his head, then mutters: “It smells like smoke.”

Theo rolls his eyes. “Well, suck it up. Because it’s the only way you’re getting out of here without anybody seeing you.” He pouts, but thankfully doesn’t argue. “Now, do you think you’re capable of acting sober long enough to get to the truck?”

Liam looks up at him, frowning disapprovingly. “Drink driving is bad.”

“I’m not the one who’s _drink_ ,” Theo smirks, before motioning to the closed door. “Well?”

His frown dissolves into a determined look, and Liam steps forward, slipping out of Theo’s reach. His side feels a little colder, especially now that he’s in nothing but a thin t-shirt, but he doesn’t dwell on it as he follows close behind the other boy, who manages to unlock the door and step out into the hall without falling on his face.

When he sways halfway down the stairs, Theo has to place his hand on Liam’s lower back to steady him. The contact feels almost scalding to Theo, but the other boy doesn’t seem to notice, trudging on dutifully, carefully, one hand gripping the banister so tight his knuckles are white.

Theo flips the hood up over Liam’s head as they reach the bottom, and ducks them through the crowd. As he expected, no one so much as looks in their direction—in _his_ direction. He’s not worthy of their attention, unless it’s scornful, and he’s grateful for it for the very first time. They make it all the way to the front door unbothered, and he herds Liam through it without looking back. Theo doesn’t let out the breath he’s been holding until it clicks shut behind them.

And then he nearly collides with Liam, who’s stopped in his tracks. “What the fuck, Dunbar? You can’t just stop sudden—”

He’s staring off to the right, at something in the driveway. At some _one_ , Theo realizes, peering over his head. Because sitting on the hood of a dark grey car, arms locked tightly around the neck of the same guy from earlier, is Hayden fucking Romero. The guy’s tucked between her knees, and going to town on her face, her neck, anywhere his greedy hands can reach.

Theo’s never met the girl in his life, but one look at Liam’s anguished expression, and he’s decided he hates her. He doesn’t really know what to say, and doesn’t want to move for fear of alerting the couple to their presence. But he’s not about to stand here and watch, especially not seeing the way Liam’s face twists with pain and fury. And given that just seeing them _flirt_ sent him on a bender that had him nearly falling off a roof to puke, well—

_Wait._

Theo looks down and to his left, and a malicious grin blooms on his lips. “Liam,” he whispers, bending down for the ammo he’s spotted. The use of his first name does the trick, snaps the boy out of whatever trance he was in as his shoulders tense. “On three, I want you to run for the truck, okay? You remember where we parked?”

He nods almost imperceptibly, the only sign he’s listening.

“One.”

His fingers wrap around the thickest part of the potted shrub, and he tries very hard not to think about the smell wafting up from it.

“Two.”

Theo rises to his feet, pressing his free hand against Liam’s back as a warning.

“Three.”

Liam miraculously leaps over the porch railing and doesn’t fall on his face when he hits the grass, and Theo launches the plant into the air, the pot staying behind as he rips it free of the dirt. He throws himself after Liam, and is rewarded for his daring escape a moment later when he hears a shriek, followed by a loud “What the _fuck_?!”

He races after Liam, who’s slowing his pace two houses down, laughing. “Did you just—” He stumbles, almost losing his footing as he turns to look at the older boy. “Did you just throw the plant I _puked_ on at them?”

“I might’ve,” Theo says nonchalantly, catching up just in time to reach out and intercept Liam when he stumbles again, this time going down. His arm winds around Liam’s waist, keeping him steady and on his feet. Theo grins down at him. “You good?”

“Better,” he smiles, but it’s tight around the edges. “Kinda feel like I need to throw up again, though. Probably the running.”

“Just don’t do it on my shoes.”

Thankfully, they make it to the truck without incident. Getting Liam _into_ the truck, however, is another matter. Theo finds that he’s mostly still made of jello, and he has to basically lift him in, one arm supporting his back and the other tucked under his legs. He tries not to think about how ridiculously cliche this is.

“Fuck,” he grunts once Liam’s fully in the passenger seat. “You’re heavy. Don’t lacrosse players diet?”

“Rude,” he mumbles, and Theo reaches across him to buckle him in. As he pulls back, Liam’s fingers wrap around his wrist, anchoring him in place. He’s looking down and away from him, and there’s more red on his face, his ears. “Hey, Theo? Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it,” he shrugs. “Somebody’s gotta make sure your drunk ass gets home in one piece.”

He stares quietly at his lap for a moment, then drags his gaze up to meet Theo’s, blue eyes glistening with the threat of tears. Liam smiles sadly.

“I didn’t mean for getting me out of there.”

Theo wants to say it’s not a big deal, wants to tell the other boy he’d have done it for anyone, because chaos is practically his middle name. He can feel Liam’s fingers pressing against the inside of his wrist, near his pulse—they’re warm, and the heat is slowly creeping up his arm, through his whole body the longer he stands there, staring. Theo can feel the younger boy’s breath ghost over his collarbone, and the flush on his cheeks is still very present, sparking a flutter low in Theo’s stomach.

“I know,” he whispers, swallowing all the things he wants to say instead. None of them feel right. Not now, with Liam still very drunk. Theo pulls away, slipping out of Liam’s grip and closing the passenger door softly. His heart's pounding in his chest as he makes his way around the truck, but he ignores it.

Theo climbs into the driver’s seat and chances a look over at Liam. The other boy’s staring intently at his hands in his lap, brow furrowed. Wordlessly, Theo starts the engine and then leans over to fiddle with the radio dial. Music floods his speakers, low and heavy on the bass, and he grins. It’s one of the bands they _didn’t_ talk about at the party earlier.

Theo’s pulled the truck away from the curb and turned it away from the party by the time Liam finally speaks. “Is this Neck Deep?”

“Their new stuff’s pretty good,” he nods, putting his blinker on as they come to a four-way stop. This time, his eyes meet Liam’s when he glances left. There’s a sort of awe painted across Liam’s face, and wonder reflected in the blue of his eyes.

Knowing full well what the answer is, he still asks: “You like them?”

“They’re...They’re one of my favourite bands,” he says, but it’s barely above a whisper. If Theo hadn’t been watching his lips form the words, he might’ve missed them.

“You’ve got good taste,” he tells him, and barely resists the urge to throw in a wink. Theo tears his gaze away and settles back on the road, leaving this neighborhood and heading for Liam’s.

“Man,” the younger boy whines, thumping his head against the seat. “I should do this.”

“What?”

“This,” Liam says, motioning to the radio with one hand. “They—They’re actually one of the reasons I got into music so hard when I was younger. I wanted to be in a band.”

_“Wanted?”_ Theo frowns, glancing over as he turns onto a street he knows won’t have traffic at this hour. “Not want?”

“It's expensive,” Liam shrugs, pouting again.

“You have a job.”

“Yeah, but not nearly enough saved up for the guitar I want. It’s part of the reason I work at _Strings and Things_. So I can stare at it pathetically, and never buy it.”

“Look, but not touch,” Theo chuckles, shaking his head. A brilliant idea pops into his head, and he waits a beat before: “You know, that place used to be a strip club.”

Liam makes a undignified noise. “It _what?”_

“Did you not know?” Theo grins over at him, and finds Liam’s eyes are narrowed, like he doesn’t quite believe him. The older boy doesn’t blame him. “That part of town was pretty unsavory a few years back. I’m surprised Hewitt never said anything to you; tearing down and rebuilding a lot of the places on that block were part of his mother’s campaign for mayor.”

“What was it called?” He’s starting to sound less suspicious, and Theo knows he’s got him hook, line and sinker.

“ _The G String_ ,” he smirks, and then cackles as Liam chokes, eyes practically bugging out of his skull. “It’s actually owned by the same guy, so I guess he’s always had a musical bone in him somewhere.”

The sound that comes out of the younger boy’s mouth is somewhere between a wheeze and a cough as he sucks in too much air, doubling over. Theo’s thankful for the stop sign they’re sitting at when he reaches over, clapping Liam on the back, trying to settle him. He doesn’t exactly want to end up with puke on the floor of his truck.

“You’re joking, right?!” Liam says between breaths, peering up at him. Theo’s only response is loud, full-body laughter, and Liam shoves him. “You dick!”

“Watch it,” the older boy grins, hands returning to the wheel. “I’m driving here.”

There’s a sharp honk behind them, and Theo startles, glancing in the rearview to see a car sitting there. He can’t make out the driver in the lights, but he’s sure they’re pissed. _Oops._

“Apparently not fast enough,” Liam smirks, and Theo flips him off as he rolls them forward. There’s silence as the song switches, and Liam’s sighing again. “The music thing is a pipe dream, honestly. I don’t…I think I only brought it up because I’m still mostly drunk.”

“Why?” Theo frowns.

“Well, you kind of need other people to form a band, and neither of my best friends can carry a tune to save their lives.” Theo’s eyes are glued to the road, but he can almost _feel_ Liam’s gaze on him. “What about you? Can you sing?”

Theo laughs. “Nice try, Dunbar. I’m not serenading you while I’m driving.”

“So you’d serenade me elsewhere, then?”

Theo’s foot hits the brake a little hard as they come to another stop sign. He looks over to find Liam staring at him, eyes sparkling with delighted mischief. His cheeks are tinged pink, and the grin on his lips looks a little shaky. _No way._

He takes a chance. “Only if you ask nicely,” Theo says, and winks.

He watches as Liam ducks his head, the blush on his face deepening considerably. The younger boy shifts in his seat, leaning his elbow against the door. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Theo’s not quite sure what kind of answer he expected, so he hits the gas pedal and continues driving, fighting the grin building on his lips. He’s pretty sure that was progress. They fall into companionable silence after that, at least for a few minutes.

They’re turning onto Liam’s street when the boy breaks it.

“When you were gone last year...where were you?” he asks, and it’s so gentle, so hesitant. Like he’s not sure if it’s appropriate to ask, or maybe he’s afraid of the answer. Theo’s aware there’s been plenty of stories about him passed around at school. Both while he was gone and since he’s come back. He can only imagine what Liam’s heard.

“Busy,” is the only thing he manages to respond.

“Were you in jail?”

“Maybe.” Something twists like a knife in his gut, and when Theo laughs, he’s aware it sounds hollow.

“No, you weren’t.”

He pulls up to the curb in front of Liam’s house and looks over to find him frowning, head tilted in that puppy-like way of his.

“What makes you say that?”

“You’re an asshole, and you _look_ like one sometimes but,” Liam says, taking his time to articulate the words as his eyes search Theo’s face, “you’re not a criminal. I’m not even convinced you’re that much of a bad boy, to be honest. More of… a dork with a shitty personality and a penchant for being a dick.”

“You wound me, really,” Theo deadpans, killing the engine, but letting music keep playing through the speakers at a diminished volume. He looks up at the house they’re parked in front of as the song changes to something softer. “Well, this is your stop, Cinderella. And we’re here before midnight, too.”

“See!” The other boy exclaims, waving a hand to gesture to all of him. “Fucking dork.”

“I think drunk you is getting us confused.”

Liam frowns, finally noticing that they’ve stopped moving, and are in fact at their destination. It turns into a full-blown scowl by the time he drops his gaze to his lap. He doesn’t make any effort to leave. “We can sneak you in, if you’re worried about them seeing you drunk.”

The younger boy shakes his head, and says quietly: “It’s not that.”

Theo tilts his head. “Something else bothering you?”

“You haven’t asked me why I got shitfaced.”

His face pinches with confusion. “I mean, it’s pretty obvious from the way you looked at her. I didn’t think you’d want to talk about it.”

“I don’t. I mean, I _think_ _?_ I...I don’t know,” Liam shrugs, hands curling together in his lap, then quickly unraveling. His fingers pick at the hem of Theo’s borrowed hoodie. He looks fucking miserable. “I don’t know what I want.”

Theo sighs, bracing himself for a conversation he doesn’t particularly want to have. “She fucked you up pretty bad, didn’t she?”

Liam lifts one shoulder, lips pursed. “I guess.”

“You guess?” Theo snorts, but it’s more bitter than amused. The look on Liam’s face when they’d stepped out onto the porch flashes through his head. “No one one watches the girl they used to date make out with another guy and looks like you did if there’s not still something raw there.”

Liam sighs, shaking his head. “It’s not just that, it’s…The guy she was with. I knew him.”

“From school?” Theo frowns, because he certainly didn’t recognize him.

“Sort of?” He seems to be _very_ interested in the loose thread he’s found at the base of the hoodie, near the zipper. “He’s…He’s actually the captain of the team we beat tonight. From my old school. We used to be friends. We used to...be close.”

His frown deepens. There’s something off about the way Liam’s pausing and taking his time, almost like he’s carefully picking his words, and choosing the way he says things. Theo feels like he’s missing something, like he’s not reading between the lines properly. A handful of scenarios fill his head as he watches the other boy’s body language communicate his unease.

His uncertainty.

He looks _shy._

_Oh, shit._

Theo leans closer, voice low and patient. “You’re allowed to still not be over someone, you know. Especially if they hurt you.”

Liam’s gaze snaps up to meet his, eyes going a little wide, and Theo knows he’s getting somewhere. His voice shakes a little as he speaks. “Mason and Corey don’t think so. It’s been almost two months. They think…”

He sounds a little breathless when he says: “They think it’s time I move on.”

Theo feels like he’s standing at the edge of a cliff, and he’s not sure if he wants to jump.

“Maybe you should.”

He dives headfirst, closing the distance between them.

It’s just a brush of his lips against Liam’s, as soft and fragile as a butterfly’s wings. Being aggressive wasn’t smart the first time, and he’s not going to make that same mistake twice. His touch is gentle as he reaches up, fingers curling against the other boy’s chin.

Theo pulls back just far enough to feel Liam’s breath against his lips, to see that his eyes are fluttering closed, and then he presses their mouths together again, more firmly this time. Warmth ignites where his skin meets Liam’s, flooding his whole body. The music playing softly around them fades to an indistinct blur.

Liam’s hands fist into the fabric of his t-shirt, right by his heart, and Theo wonders if the other boy can feel it trying to beat it’s way out of his chest. Maybe that’s why he pushes him away roughly a moment later.

Theo’s racing heart skips two beats, then plummets into a pit of unease in his stomach.

Because Liam’s eyes are wide and glassy with panic, and he’s breathing far too heavily for a boy who’s just been kissed as gently as possible. Theo knows that look. He’s seen it before, weeks ago, when all he’d done was _flirt_ with the guy. He’s scared.

“Fuck,” he breathes, voice unsteady. “Dunbar, I—”

Liam punches him in the jaw, hard.

Theo’s head snaps back, his back hitting the window with enough force to send a sharp stab of pain through one shoulder. His hands come up to touch gingerly at it, and he hears the click of the door opposite him. His eyes find Liam clambering out of the truck.

“Wait!” He says, but the door slams shut, blocking him out.

Theo turns, fumbling with the handle and swinging his own door open, scrambling to get out before Liam gets too far. Something pulls tight against his throat, and he realizes angrily that he hasn’t even undone his seatbelt. The precious seconds he wastes trying to unclip it and then throwing himself out of the truck are enough for Liam to be more than halfway up his sidewalk.

“Dunbar, wait!” He calls after him, gripping at the edge of the door so tightly his knuckles turn white. _“Liam!”_

It’s no use. The other boy disappears inside his house without looking back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uh...oops?


	3. the build up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> surprisingly absolutely no one, here I am a week late with starbucks, another 8k chapter aaaaand an apology because I lied it's actually gonna be four parts. please don't kill me! beta'd by the ever-patient and lovely skaboom, without whom shit would literally not get written because I'm a lazy mofo ❤ thanks to jannalionheart for looking it over for me, and to vorsakh for help with the texts!

Theo spends the entire weekend doing an unintentional study of the five stages of grief.

Stage One? Denial.

When he wakes Saturday morning, in a heap of blankets on his floor that he’s apparently dragged from his bed in his fitful sleep, he tells himself it didn’t mean anything. Theo tells himself it wasn’t a big deal, that Liam simply overreacted. By Monday he’ll have forgotten all about Theo’s little slip up and they’ll be back to their normal routine. They’ll be back to studying and gaming and dancing around each other as if there’s nothing going on, absolutely nothing building between them like a slow-burning fire.

He also pretends it didn’t hurt, watching Liam walk away. He pushes the ache in his chest down deep, refusing to think about the way his voice had cracked when he called after the younger boy. When he’d called him Liam, _again_ , instead of Dunbar. He refuses to admit that he’s gotten attached.

Of course, the splitting headache and the half-empty bottle of whiskey on his bedside table say different, but he ignores that as he showers, pulls on clothes and heads to the bakery for his shift.

Which is of course where he hits Stage Two: Anger.

Tracy is late, and when she strolls into the shop with sunglasses, a pleased grin and last night’s clothes on, he knows she’s going to be insufferable. She slips past him while he’s in the middle of serving a customer, disappearing into the back.

She waits until the old man is gone before reappearing, eyeing him over the edge of her latte. Theo notes that those are definitely the jeans she wore at the party, but that shirt looks too big on her. And it’s _pink._

His eyes narrow. “You smell like sex,” he says, tone accusing.

She offers him a Cheshire Cat smile in response. “That typically happens when one gets laid.” There’s a slight tilt to her head as she considers him. “Which you obviously did not, given your _lovely_ mood. Strike out with Dunbar?”

He rolls his eyes at her, snatching her apron off the hook by the door and holding it out to her. “There’s a cake order to fill.”

“So, you did,” Tracy hums, not moving. She sips loudly at her latte, filling the silence in the bakery with a noise that he’s pretty sure makes his headache worse. “What happened?”

“Do you care?” Theo snaps. When she opens her mouth to answer, he adds, tone dangerous: “If you say _entertainment,_ I’m going to fire you.”

The look on her face is unimpressed. She’s free help, he can’t fire her even if he wanted to, and they both know it. Tracy says nothing, simply continues staring at him knowingly. Sometimes, he’s grateful that she’s a woman of few words. But right now? Well, he’d prefer that it was Josh’s shift, honestly.

At least then he could avoid this miserable feeling coiling in his gut the longer she looks at him, like she’s trying to see all the things he’s feeling to pick at them like a vulture. Theo huffs, tossing her apron on the counter next to her.

“Forget it,” he grunts, turning away and heading into the back.

He’s halfway through mixing the base when she appears in the doorway, hovering. She’s put her apron on, and ditched both the latte and her sunglasses. But the curious look is still there as she crosses her arms, blinking at him. “What’s the deal with you two, anyway?”

Theo continues stirring. “There is none.”

Tracy laughs, airy and derisive. “Really? You’ve spent all your free time for the last _month_ with the kid, when you’ve barely even _looked_ at him before. Don’t tell me that’s nothing.”

“He’s helping with my history paper,” Theo shrugs, nonchalant. “And I’m tutoring him in Biology.”

She raises a brow. “That’s not all it looks like.”

“And _what,_ exactly, does it look like?” His tone is pure ice, and he watches the way her shoulders tense. Tracy’s seen him at his worst, she knows very well when to stop pushing him.

“Well, to Josh, it looks like you’re just trying to get into his pants.”

Which apparently isn’t now.

“And to you?” Theo says, scowling. She’s always been the more observant of the two, in a way that sets his teeth on edge.

She lifts her chin stiffly, eyes glittering with mischief.

“I’ve never seen you work this hard for a mark before. Which means either Dunbar’s not as easy as I thought, or…”

Theo doesn’t dare look up, focusing instead on hunting for the cake pan he needs. He doesn’t want to talk about this. Not today, not with her, probably not ever. Fucking up isn’t exactly new to him, but giving a shit about it is. He barely gives a shit about anything, these days.

“Theo,” she says, stepping closer and passing him the round pan he’d been searching for off the counter by the door. “Don’t mistake me for Josh, okay? I’m not an idiot.”

“I’m well aware,” he says gruffly, but her eyes have softened.

“He’s not just another conquest, is he?” Tracy says, mouth twitching up into a gentle smile.

“It’s...complicated,” Theo sighs, shoulders drooping. She sidles up next to him, and bumps him out of the way with her hip. Her fingers curl around the mixing bowl and she gives him a patient look, one eyebrow raised, effectively communicating what she wants.

It chips away at his defenses just enough that he gives in, and he tells her everything as she takes over the cake building for him. From the start that day with Mason in Biology to the miserable, jaw-aching finish. It’s only the second time he’s told anyone about what’s going on, and it helps that she stays quiet, not saying a word or giving him a judging look, until he’s done.

At which point she teases him absolutely mercilessly for making an idiot of himself. It helps the dull ache in his chest, but it does nothing to dissolve the anger in his blood. It simply transfers from her to himself, for being so stupid. Still, Theo manages to get through the rest of the day without snapping at anyone else (mostly by hiding out in the back while Tracy handles the front.)

It doesn’t really help him figure out what the fuck to do, though.

He flickers through Stage Three: Bargaining that night when he gets home, staring at his phone for several long moments before he opens his messages. He hovers over _Dunbar_ , chewing on his bottom lip. A moment later, Theo tosses the phone away with a groan, head thumping back against his headboard.

What would he even _say?_

 _Sorry?_ He isn’t.

Maybe for the timing, but certainly not the kiss itself. Maybe if he’d pried a little more, if he’d just _asked_ Liam how he was feeling... If he’d asked about whatever it was he saw, churning beneath the surface, when Liam had brought up the guy from his old school. Theo knows there’s a story there, knows that the pain he saw in Liam’s eyes didn’t extend to just Hayden being with this guy, but _him_ with her too.

But then, that would require him to have actually thought things through. And Theo? Well, his blatant disregard for rules and consequences has been getting him into trouble his whole life.

Especially when someone is paying him to ignore them.

The thought brings a sour taste to his mouth.

Theo leans over, dragging open the drawer with the roll of Mason’s money in it. He picks it up, turning it over in his hands, scowling at it. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, he knows he never should have accepted it, or agreed to their stupid plan. He’s known from the start how easy it was for everything to fall apart. But it’s the thrill of everything falling together that kept him going, once he started making progress.

Progress that he may as well have shattered last night.

Theo groans, throwing the wad of bills back into his bedside table with a huff, and slamming the drawer shut. It rattles the lamp on top, as well as the bottle of whiskey. He blinks at it, having honestly forgotten it was there.

When he’d gotten home last night after dropping Liam off, he’d tried his best to stay quiet so as to not wake his sister. But given that she was the lightest sleeper in existence, she was waiting for him at the top of the stairs after he’d angrily kicked off his shoes, and then stomped around the house trying in vain to calm himself down. She’d taken one look at him, smiled sympathetically, and marched him right back downstairs to the kitchen.

Theo had sat there while she poured them each a glass of whiskey with ice, and then had patiently waited for him to tell her what had happened. When he’d finished recounting his night, her smile had softened, and she’d told him with a hug to give the younger boy time to cool off, and to talk to him come Monday morning. And then she’d retreated to bed, leaving him alone with the bottle of whiskey and the terrifying prospect of dealing with the consequences of his actions after the weekend was over.

So he’d taken the bottle to bed with him.

It had soothed his jumbled thoughts, and had staved off his usual nightmares, but had resulted in the killer hangover he’d had today. The very same hangover still applying pressure at the back of his skull, reminding him what a horrible idea it was to do it all over again.

Pity he isn’t a fan of good decisions.

Theo polishes off the bottle when he hits Stage Four: Depression, and proceeds to fall asleep tangled in between his sheets and regret. By the time he and his hangover reacquaint themselves late Sunday afternoon, he’s hit the final stage.

Acceptance.

He fucked up, and he’s going to have to deal with it at school tomorrow, whether he likes it or not. And figure out what to do about it.

* * *

Despite the resolve he’d settled into the previous afternoon, Theo avoids Liam like the fucking plague at school. He assumes it’s hard to tell, considering they don’t actually hang out in public _anyway_ , but Tracy gives him a blatant look during lunch that tells him he’s not fooling anyone.

Especially when _both_ Mason and Corey appear in his study hall later that afternoon.

Theo swears the kid snuck them in with invisibility, because one moment he’s taking bets with Josh on who Tracy went home with Friday (“I swear she was still on-off dating that angry senior chick from last year.” “No. She’s in _France._ I’m sure it’s the blonde that sits in front of you guys in Biology.”) and the next minute, there’s the sound of a chair scraping against the ground, and two newcomers at their table.

No one in the class except him or Josh bats an eye.

“Uh,” Josh says slowly to his left, staring. “Hi?”

“Hi,” Corey smiles politely.

“What did you do?” Mason says, glaring at Theo, getting straight to the point.

The older boy simply shrugs innocently. “Who says _I_ did anything?”

A phone slides across the table towards him, a text conversation already open for him.

****

**** Theo looks up, biting back a laugh. “Flight Attendant?” He smirks. “Do you mean wingman?”

“His words, not mine.” Mason snatches his phone back, scowling. “And don’t change the subject here.”

“Didn’t he tell you on Saturday?” Theo frowns.

Mason shakes his head, exchanging an awkward look with Corey. “He was grumpy, and hungover, and pretended to not remember the night. But I know he does, because he avoided my eyes every time I asked. Which means it’s something he doesn’t want to tell me, and he tells me _everything._ So What. Did. You. Do.”

Theo’s gaze slides left to find Josh staring. His eyes widen at being caught, and he pops his headphones back in, having removed them for their earlier debate. When he’s convinced the other boy isn’t listening, Theo sighs.

“I kissed him.”

Mason makes an excited noise, looking hopeful, but Corey catches the dejected look he’s wearing. He reaches over, placing a hand on Theo’s shoulder. “What happened?”

Theo ducks out of his touch immediately, frowning at the younger boy. “What the fuck do you think?” He says irritably. “He punched me in the face!”

Corey’s lips twitch upwards slightly, but Mason’s eyes widen. “Oh.”

“Yeah. _Oh._ ” Theo scoffs, rolling his eyes. “I thought I was fucking getting somewhere with him. We were talking about why he got upset at the party and how he felt seeing his ex with some dude he used to know and he _looked_ at me like…I don’t know. So I went for it.”

“And?” Corey asks, leaning closer.

“And he kissed me back for like, a split-second. Then got scared off,” he sighs, carding a hand through his hair. He taps at his chin, which thankfully no longer hurts. “Violently.”

Corey falls silent, thoughtful look on his face as he glances at his boyfriend. Mason has been quiet this whole time, staring at Theo with a strange look on his face.

“What?” The older boy snaps.

“He likes you,” Mason says, words slow. “And that scares him.”

“No shit,” Theo snorts.

“No, I mean he actually really—oh, man!” The other boy grins, nearly as dazzling as that first night he’d approached Liam. “The plan is working!”

Theo raises a brow at him, looking unimpressed. “Me getting punched was part of the plan?”

“Well,” Corey makes a face at him, looking to Mason. “I said it shouldn’t be a box.”

His boyfriend just snickers. “It fits a pattern.”

Theo groans, slumping forward in his seat. His elbows rest against the table and he buries his face in his hands. He regrets everything he’s ever done to deserve this. This is exactly why he doesn’t date, because it’s _stupid._ Still, against his better judgement, he asks: “So what do I do now?”

There’s silence for long enough that he chances a look at them, between his fingers. They’re both grinning at one another, then at him. “You ask him to prom.”

Theo barks out a strangled laugh, drawing the attention of their teacher. He ducks his head to avoid the man’s piercing gaze, scowling at them as he settles. “Yeah, that’s a no.”

“What?” Mason looks offended. “Why not?”

“Have you _met_ me? Why the fuck would I want to go to _prom_?” The older boy slouches back in his chair, tone dripping disgust.

“Because it’s a party? And it’s our last hurrah!”

“Hurray,” Theo says, tone flat. “I’m not doing it. It’s a stupid tradition, and it’s not my scene. I avoided it last year by not being here. Find something else.”

“It’s not like you have to—I mean, I’ll pay for it! The ticket, the limo. Everything,” Mason continues.

“Even if you could meet my price, I still wouldn’t do it.”

Mason crosses his arms with a huff.

“How does that help anything, anyway?” Theo asks, frowning at him. “He’s pissed off at me for making a move on him. _Again_. Why would making _another_ one change things?”

“Because he’s scared.”

“You said that already,” the older boy rolls his eyes. “He’s scared of coming out, so I don’t see how me asking him to be seen in public with me helps.”

“No, it’s not that. He’s—” Mason shakes his head, lips pursing. He glances over at Corey, who shrugs, making a face that looks a lot like _it’s up to you_. “Look, you have a reputation, alright?”

“Do I? Wasn’t aware.”

“Can you like—Is it at all possible for you to stop being a dick for like, five minutes?” Mason huffs impatiently. Corey reaches out to put a comforting hand on his boyfriend’s arm.

Theo smirks, but says nothing. So Mason continues.

“I’m not just talking about the bad boy thing, okay? How many people have you hooked up with over the course of your high school career?”

Theo’s brows rise into his hairline, and his grin turns wicked. He hadn’t expected this. “Several.”

“And how many of them have you _dated?”_ Mason asks tightly.

“None. Attachment’s not my—” His voice catches, eyes going wide. His lips part in a slight ‘O’ shape, and his gaze flickers left, to Josh. The other boy is bobbing his head along to the music blaring in his ears, eyes glued to the Spanish workbook he’s scribbling away in. Tracy’s words bounce around the inside of his skull.

_Well, to Josh, it looks like you’re just trying to get into his pants._

“He doesn’t think I’m serious,” Theo exhales, looking back to the other two. “He thinks I’ve got an ulterior motive.”

“Exactly. Which means you have to show him you don’t,” Mason says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“Except that’s not really true, is it?” He’s running out of patience with these two, fast. “You idiots are _paying_ me to date him. I’d call that ulterior motive. One that would probably hurt a lot more than knowing someone was just being nice to you to get you into bed.”

“He’s not going to find out!” Mason says, frowning. “Not unless you tell him.”

“And what do you think is going to happen after all this, Hewitt?” Theo asks, voice dropping dangerously low as he leans in. He takes pleasure in the fact that the other boy backs away from him. Corey, however, stands his ground, shoulders tightening as he shifts in front of his boyfriend slightly.

“Say I convince Dunbar that I’m interested in more than just his dick—that I actually want to _date_ him. He works up the courage to tell his step-dad he’s into guys just as much as girls, and it goes okay. He comes out to the rest of these idiots by going to prom with me, and we have a good time. In a few weeks, when the curtain closes on the _lovely_ chapter in our lives that is high school, and we all move towards college and whatever else our future holds… what then?”

Mason doesn’t say anything, just keeps frowning.

“Are you going to tell him it was all a lie?” The words taste like ash in his mouth. “Because I highly doubt you’re going to keep paying me date him through college. Think of how _expensive_ tuition is.”

The other boy shrugs. “I thought, maybe…after you spent enough time with him, and saw what a great guy he was...”

“What? That I’d _want_ to keep dating him?” Theo stares, incredulous. “Fuck, I don’t know what gave you the idea I was boyfriend material, Hewitt, but it means you’re a bigger idiot than I thought.”

“Is he, though?” Corey asks, fixing Theo with a hard, knowing stare. “You’ve spent the last _three weeks_ telling us you’re on track, that the plan is working. But you haven’t even taken him out on a real date yet.”

Theo frowns, trying to decipher the look the younger boy is wearing. It’s difficult, considering they haven’t been friends in years, and that he was always hard to read back then anyway. Whatever it is, it sets Theo’s teeth on edge. “In case you haven’t noticed, he wasn’t exactly open to the idea the first time I pitched it. I’ve had to get him comfortable with me, first.”

Corey looks like he’s struck gold, a smirk spreading across his lips. Theo meets it with a glare. “Is that what you’ve been doing? Getting comfortable?”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“I think you’ve been taking your time because _you’re_ the one that’s afraid, Theo,” Corey says. “I think at first, maybe, it was just about befriending him and making him comfortable with the idea of going out with you. But then, you got to know him. And you got attached.”

“I don’t _get_ attached,” Theo laughs, but it doesn’t sound right, even to him.

“Don’t you?” Corey raises one brow, and Theo’s heart skips a beat. He remembers, then, that while Corey’s always been difficult to figure out, he’s always paid attention to other people. He’s always been good at reading them, just like he’s always had a good memory. Which means he probably remembers exactly what brought them together in the first place, sophomore year.

The memory strikes at his heart, cold and painful. _Fuck._

Theo’s lack of answers seems to be answer enough for Corey, who’s eyes glitter with delight. He looks pleased with himself. All it does spark a fire in Theo’s chest; a bright, vicious thing.

“Do you want to know why this little plan of yours is bullshit? Because I’m not a good person, and your best friend deserves a hell of a lot better than me.” He grips the edge of the table, chair scraping against the floor as he slides back.

“So even if I was interested in him—which I’m _not,”_ Theo glares at Corey as the boy opens his mouth to speak, “This whole idea’s a timebomb, ticking down the minutes until it blows up. And I’ve since realized that I don’t want to be there when it does.”

Theo slams his textbook shut, stuffing it into his bag as they both stare up at him, open-mouthed. And then he turns on his heel and stalks out of the classroom, not even bothering to give the teacher an excuse.

They’ve all long since given up on him.

* * *

Theo likes to park his truck at the back of the lot, as far away from the school as possible. He does this to avoid people, and most days doesn’t have any other company besides Josh’s shitty little beater. Today, apparently, is not one of those days.

There’s a dark grey Audi parked slightly askew next to his truck. Normally, he wouldn’t consider this an issue. He’d barely even glance at it, other than to note that it’s a decently fancy vehicle for someone at BHHS (except maybe Mason), because fancy cars aren’t really his thing. He’d breeze right past it, swing himself into his truck, and never think twice about it.

The only reason he doesn’t is because it’s owner is leaning against the grill of _his_ vehicle, half-heartedly swiping through his phone with one hand, the other tucked into the pocket of his sweats.

It’s the captain of the Devenford Prep lacrosse team.

Theo pulls up short, gripping his backpack strap tightly in his right hand. His keys jingle in his left, catching the other boy’s attention. Bright blue eyes flicker up to meet him, and a handsome, easy grin stretches across his lips. “Hey.”

“Hi?” Theo frowns.

“I’m Brett,” he says, tone friendly, offering his hand.

Theo simply stares at it. “Can I help you?”

“Oh, I’m hoping.” His eyes glitter with mischief, raking down Theo a slow once over, then glancing past him. “I was waiting to catch your boyfriend, actually.”

His heart skips a beat, but Theo doesn’t let it show on his face. Instead, his frown softens, and he smiles politely. “I’m sorry, I think you might have me confused with someone else.”

“I was a little distracted by the puke splattering all over my clothes and car,” Brett says, straightening up as he drops his free hand and pockets his phone. “But I’m pretty sure you’re the guy that snuck off with Liam Friday night. The same one that spent the whole party making eyes at him.”

Theo keeps his tone light. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Sure you do,” Brett grins, taking a step towards him. His smile has turned dangerous, and warning bells go off in the back of Theo’s head. He ignores them. The guy‘s easily a head taller, but Theo’s got about twice the muscle on him, so there’s really nothing to be afraid— “Do you get paid extra for defending him against his exes?”

He blinks, stupidly, then says: “What?”

“How good’s the pay, anyway? Being a fake date?”

“Look, I don’t know what you think is going on, _Brett,”_ Theo spits, taking a step of his own, keeping his face as neutral as possible. “But I know I’d like you to get out of my way, so I can get in my truck and go home.”

“Of course,” he says brightly, stepping out of the way. He motions to Theo’s truck with a flourish, and the older boy stomps past, letting his shoulder knock in Brett’s for good measure. He wrenches the door open, throwing his bag onto the passenger seat.

He’s about to climb in when Brett speaks again. “But you’ll miss the fireworks when I tell Liam your little secret.”

Theo freezes, shoulders locking up. His foot drops from the step, and he leans around the door with a glare. “What the fuck did you just say?”

“Your friend Josh is _very_ talkative when he’s drunk,” Brett says, shrugging. “Had some pretty interesting things to say Friday night that I think Liam might like to hear.”

Theo sighs, thinking how tragic it is that he’s going to be down to one friend tomorrow. After he murders Josh for being far more observant than any of them gave him credit for, it’ll just be him and Tracy. _What a pity._

Slowly, he closes his door, and Brett looks delighted that he’s got his attention. “I think you hurt him enough at the party by making out with his ex. Why twist the knife further? You get off on his misery or something?”

“Oh, I get off on a lot,” the guy winks. “But not this. I just think it’s something he deserves to know, don’t you?”

Anger boils in Theo’s chest, and he crosses his arms to try and tamper it. “What do you want?”

“Who says I want something?” Brett asks, but the smile he’s wearing speaks volumes. He saunters over, tilting his head to the side as he considers Theo, from head to toe. Theo’s jaw clenches, his shoulders stiffening.

“I don’t see how your threat’s supposed to sound like anything other than blackmail,” Theo says, tone flat. He doesn’t break Brett’s gaze, doesn’t feel affected by the very obvious once-over. “Do you want the money?”

“I drive an Audi.” Brett raises a brow, before his whole demeanor softens. “Look, I’m trying to help, alright? My interests are purely philosophical. Your reputation precedes you, and Liam and I were...friends, once.”

There’s that pause again, the same one Liam had Friday night. It carries the same unspoken weight, so Theo decides to test his theory. Hopefully without getting punched this time.

“Ah,” Theo says. “So that’s what this is about. You’re just jealous.”

Brett blinks, momentarily looking taken aback. Sensing he’s gained a foot or two, it’s Theo’s turn to smirk. “Oh, you _are_ , aren’t you?” He steps forward, getting up in Brett’s face. “Did you actually know who Hayden was before the party, or did you go after her because of who she was to him? Because he was happy, and having fun with me and she was an open wound you could hit?”

He sees the tick in Brett’s jaw. “Happy coincidence.”

“I’m sure it was,” Theo shakes his head, sounding as unconvinced as he feels. “Look, I don’t know what happened between the two of you at your old school, and I don’t care. You hurt him again, and I’ll break your face. Got it?”

Theo doesn’t know if it’s the tone, which is far more aggressive than he’d meant, or maybe the choice of words—but something in his statement betrays him. Theo sees the moment he loses the upper hand, Brett’s dangerous smile returning.

“The only thing I’m getting here is that someone’s got himself a little invested in the job.”

Theo scowls. Is it written on his goddamn forehead? He _swears_ he’s a better liar than this normally. “Excuse me?”

“Tell you what,” Brett drawls, leaning in close enough that Theo can feel the other boy’s breath ghosting against his face. He feels Brett press something thick, round and paper-like into one of his hands. He doesn’t need to look down to know it’s a roll of money. “Consider this _my_ investment.”

“Why?”

“I told you—I want to help. And I think a little coming out celebration at prom would do Liam wonders.” Brett’s eyes sparkle with mischief. “You two lovebirds show up together next week, and I won’t say a word about your dirty little secret. We’ll consider your indiscretion history.”

 _Great,_ Theo thinks. _He’s not just jealous, he’s pissed at me about the fucking plant._

Theo knows this is a terrible idea. Like, straight up _stupid._ Having Liam’s friends pay Theo to take him to prom is one thing, but someone he clearly has _history_ with? He’d be the biggest idiot in the world if he accepted. Especially since he doesn’t trust the guy to keep his word.

Not to mention it would put him at the asshole’s mercy, and Theo promised himself a long time ago that he’d never let anyone else have power over him. That he’d be free to make his own decisions, no matter how colossally stupid.

And maybe it makes him a bad person. Maybe, somewhere out there, there’s a universe where he stops the game here and now and tells Liam everything. Maybe he confesses, and they even end up happy.

“See you there?” Brett raises a brow, waiting.

Theo envies that universe.

“Sure.” Theo’s jaw is clenched so tightly he’s amazed he manages to get the word out.

The other boy grins, patting a hand to Theo’s cheek before slipping away, back towards his car. He throws a wink over as he slides his sunglasses on, lowering himself into the driver’s seat. Theo stands there, fists clenched tightly at his sides, glaring at the vehicle until he’s sped out of the parking lot, music blaring through his open windows.

His movements are slow, sluggish, as he pulls his phone from his back pocket.

 

* * *

 Liam hates AP Biology with every fiber of his being. If he could go back in time and stop it from ever being discovered as a science, he definitely would. Except, that would probably cause a lot of issues, so maybe not the best idea he’s ever had.

Either way, he hates Mason and Corey for talking him into it. Looking back, he’s still not sure how they managed it, he had absolutely no need for the advanced credit and _no_ interest in science at all—they were very good at getting him to do something if they worked together. Like the time they’d snuck into a concert for his birthday and nearly gotten arrested, but Mason had somehow talked them all out of it. And he’d gotten a signed t-shirt.

Liam groans, slamming his textbook shut after reading the same sentence for the sixth time and throwing it off his bed. It lands with a loud _whump_ over by his desk, and the sound Liam’s head makes when it thumps back against his headboard is fairly similar.

“Man, what did that book ever do to you?”

His head snaps up so quickly Liam’s amazed he doesn’t get whiplash.

Theo’s standing in his doorway. His arms are crossed over his chest, pulling his t-shirt tight at his shoulders, and he’s leaning his hip against the frame. His usual smirk sits in place, setting Liam’s teeth on edge.

“What are you doing here?” Liam glares.

“Your step-dad let me in.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s Monday?” Theo says, raising a brow. And he always comes over for tutoring on Mondays, a fact which Liam knows, but…

“I assumed you wouldn’t come.”

“Assumed? Or hoped?”

Liam averts his gaze, cheeks burning. “I don’t know,” he grumbles.

“Can I—” Theo’s voice catches, causing him to look up. He’s motioning to the foot of the bed, and the look on his face has turned hesitant, almost nervous. “Can I come in?”

Liam nods, not trusting himself to speak.

Slowly, Theo pads into the room, gingerly taking a seat at the edge of the bed. His shoulders are tight, and he’s staring at the hands folded in his lap. It’s awkward, and the air feels tense, the exact opposite of the warm, comfortable atmosphere they’ve spent the last few weeks in. The difference is staggering, and the distance between them feels almost painful to him.

Theo inhales deeply. “I’m sorry.” His face pinches, and Liam bites his bottom lip, holding his breath. “I’m sorry if I...if I overstepped, or if I made you uncomfortable. I never meant to. I should’ve known that you...that it would be too far, given the way we met.”

“Why’d you do it then?” Liam asks, his voice barely above a whisper. He hates the way it wavers, drawing Theo’s attention. Hates the way that the air leaves his lungs at the sight of Theo’s green eyes, clouded with something dark and sad.

But most of all, he hates the way his heart skips a beat as he waits for the answer.

“Kiss you?” Theo chuckles, and it’s strained; a shadow of his normal, gorgeous laugh. Liam nods, and watches the way the older boy’s lips twitch upwards softly. “Because I wanted to.”

Anger rises like bile in his throat, and Liam drags his knees to his chest, hugging his arms around them. “Yeah?” He scowls, and can hear the bitterness in every word coming out of his mouth. “You’re pretty good at getting what you want, I hear.”

Theo winces. “Okay, I deserved that.”

The older boy shifts, sliding a leg onto the bed as he turns to face Liam. “Look, I know I’ve got a reputation, okay? But this isn’t—I mean, I don’t know what I did to make you think I wasn’t—-” He clamps his mouth shut, looking frustrated.

Liam’s never seen him struggle with words before. It causes a strange sort of flutter low in his stomach, to see him that nervous. To know that _he_ makes Theo that nervous. Liam stays quiet, not saying a word, observing the internal struggle the older boy undergoes.

“I wasn’t after anything more than your help,” Theo says finally. “At first, anyway. I know I came on strong but—I really did enjoy spending time with you. I’m grateful for your help with History, but when it started being less about school, and more about just being your friend, I…”

His shoulders tense as Theo slides fully onto the bed, sitting cross legged and bringing himself close enough that Liam’s toes touch his shins. He’s grateful that Theo can’t hear the way the move makes his heartbeat speed up. Liam’s spent weeks pretending he doesn’t find him attractive, that he’s not flattered by the attention, that they haven’t been slowly gravitating to something closer and more intimate.

“I like you, Liam.”

He makes a strangled noise in the back of his throat, and his heart threatens to burst clean through his chest. “What?” Liam croaks, immediately wanting to kick himself.

“I like you,” Theo says again, this time a little louder. He smiles softly, one shoulder lifting in a half-shrug. “I wouldn’t have spent this much time hanging around if I was just trying to sleep with you.”

“I didn’t...What makes you think…,” Liam stammers, cheeks flushing.

When Theo laughs this time, it sounds genuine and a little more relaxed. Much more like the sound Liam’s come to enjoy hearing these last few weeks. “Your friends showed up in my study hall today. We had a nice little chat, it was fairly enlightening.”

Liam blinks, throat locking up. He manages a small: “Oh.”

“Yeah. I get that I might have scared you off, and that I should have asked if it was okay to kiss you, but…” Theo looks down at his hands, once more folded in his lap. He bites at his bottom lip, face twisted into a thoughtful frown. “I thought I saw a signal or something the other night, when we were in my truck. I thought I _felt_ something that meant you might feel the same, and I just sort of reacted to it.”

Liam opens his mouth to respond, but Theo keeps going. “When you punched me and took off, I...I felt like such an asshole. I screwed up, big time, and I thought for sure that that was it—you were going to hate me. I’d ruined _yet another_ friendship because I’d fallen for someone and—”

His mouth slams shut so hard that Liam swears he can hear Theo’s teeth clack together. His shoulders hunch inwards, and he looks almost _small_. Something twists in his chest at the sight, as Liam realizes this is probably not a side of Theo anyone ever sees. This is so far from the cool, collected rebel he portrays at school, and even the relaxed, playful boy Liam’s come to know in the past few weeks in the quiet of his room.

Not to mention the fact that Liam’s pretty sure Theo just said something personal about himself, his past; a rare resource that the younger boy has precious little of.

He pushes down the wave of anxiety that rises up to meet him as he folds his legs beneath him, scooting closer until their knees are touching. Liam reaches out, placing a trembling hand on the older boy’s knee.

“Theo?” His green eyes are dark, swirling with something Liam can’t seem to place. “I’m sorry, too.”

Theo blinks at him, looking a little startled. Liam can’t help but give into the tug at the corner of his lips, his smile a little nervous.

“There were definitely better ways to react than punching you in the face.”

“Certainly less painful ones,” Theo says, fingers touching at his jaw. Still, there’s a ghost of a smile of his lips, and it gives Liam the courage to keep talking. At least, to the hands he curls together in his lap. He’s pretty sure if he says the words building on his tongue directly to Theo, they’ll get all jumbled and he won’t make it.

“It wasn’t just you,” he says, sighing. “The reason I freaked out, I mean. Because I did—I _do_ want to kiss you. And I _do_ like you, against my better judgement.”

He hears Theo snort, but can’t bring himself to look up. “I told you that first day that I wasn’t interested because… because you’re not the first person to try and break me out of my shell, I guess. Mason’s been trying to convince me for years to come out, but… He didn’t—I mean— _Fuck._ ”

Liam can feel his chest constricting, the anger boiling beneath the surface. He has no idea what he’s doing, or how to tell this story when he’s never told anyone else before. Not even his best friend. His hands ball into fists, and he chews at his bottom lip in frustration.

Quietly, slowly, one of Theo’s hands reaches out. His fingers slip between Liam’s, uncurling the fist he’s making and cradling it gently in his own hand. His tumb traces back and forth in the middle of Liam’s palm, and with every stroke, he feels his anger fade. His skin tingles, the warmth spreading from their contact and washing through the rest of his body like a wave.

Liam takes a deep breath. “I didn’t actually come to Beacon Hills High until the middle of sophomore year. I started school at Devenford Prep. My step-dad chose them because they had the best lacrosse team in the league, and I was so excited to play for them. There was only one other freshman trying out that year—his name was Brett.”

“We became friends like, instantly. He was a bit of a dick, but then, so was I. We pushed each other to do better in lacrosse, trained together, we did everything together,” Liam says, biting his lip as he trails off, voice wavering. Theo seemingly catches it, because he gives the younger boy’s hand a squeeze to encourage him. “I realized sophomore year that I had a massive crush on him, and I didn’t know what to do about it. I’d never liked a guy before. I mean, I’d found them attractive. I’d grown up with Mason, and we’d talked about it, but I’d never... In the end, I didn’t really need to figure it out. I guess I was really obvious about it, because he brought it up one night when we were hanging out at his place after school.”

“He was my first kiss, and we started—I mean, I guess we were dating after that? Nothing really changed at school, or here but...at his place, we were _together_. We made out. We sometimes went to movies like before, but he’d sometimes hold my hand, if there wasn’t anyone else in the theatre.” Liam’s chest tightens, his words becoming more difficult to get out. His free hand is trembling, and so Theo reaches out to take it, too. Liam watches, fascinated, as their fingers tangle together. He can feel his heart pounding in his chest, begging to break free, or for the anxiety holding a firm grip on it to stop.

“Liam,” Theo says, when he’s spent enough time staring at their hands that the room has fallen silent around them. The younger boy looks up, and the air whooshes out of him at the sight of Theo’s green eyes. They’re full of understanding, and the kind of concern he’s used to seeing in his parents, or Mason and Corey. His heart doesn’t settle, but it’s certainly calmer than before. “If you don’t want to tell me, it’s okay.”

“No, I need to,” Liam shakes his head, not breaking eye contact. “I need you to understand why I—”

His voice cracks, and Theo smiles patiently. “Okay,” he says softly. “Take your time, then.”

It brings a shaky smile to Liam’s lips. “One night, after a really intense lacrosse game, we—we were celebrating at his place. He’d scored the winning shot, and we still had an adrenaline high going on, so when he kissed me, it escalated a lot faster than normal. We’d never...we’d never gone any further than third base. At least, _I_ hadn’t. But I wanted to—we wanted to. So we did. He coached me through it, and, it was great. Afterwards, he—he asked me to be his boyfriend. Officially. In front of other people, not just… when it was us.”

Liam chews on his bottom lip intermittently as he continues. “I said no. I was...scared. I didn’t know how I felt about coming out, because I’d never really thought about it. I wish… I wish I’d talked to Mason about the whole thing. I wish I’d told him about Brett and asked him how to handle things—asked him how he and Corey had handled it not long before that. I wish I’d known the right answer, then.”

“Liam. Whatever answer you gave _was_ the right one, because it was your decision. Your choice.”

“Yeah,” Liam mutters bitterly. “If only Brett had thought so.”

“What did he do?”

“He told the whole team the next day at practice. And then he broke up with me.”

He watches Theo’s eyes turn dark, his forehead pinching into an angry frown as his lips press together tightly. A moment later, he exhales sharply, teeth clenched. “Asshole.”

“That’s what I thought, too,” Liam says, letting loose a derisive chuckle as the anger and shame returns to him full force after two years, coiling in his stomach, white-hot. “So I took a crowbar to his car.”

Theo’s eyes widen, and he blinks several times as his lips part slightly. “You...you what?”

His cheeks flush, and he ducks his head, looking at a fold in his comforter instead of at the older boy. “I trashed Brett’s car.”

“Good,” he says, and Liam’s gaze snaps back up to meet his. There’s anger burning in his eyes, but the smile on his face looks almost _proud_.

“I got expelled for it.”

The smile falters. “Oh.”

It loosens the knots in his chest enough to elicit a laugh, and Liam looks down at their hands, intertwined. “Yeah. And my step-dad...my step-dad worked really hard to get me into that school. It’s where he went as a kid, and he was star of the lacrosse team. It’s why it was so important to him, me going there. It was important to me, too.”

“Does he know why you got kicked out?” Theo asks, tone careful. Liam knows why, can put together the pieces that he’s given Theo, and see the picture this has probably painted for him.

He shakes his head. “No. Brett and I fought sometimes. Both of us were pretty volatile _and_ little shits, so it wasn’t too difficult to think we’d gotten into a bad argument and my IED had acted up.”

“IED?” Theo frowns, tilting his head slightly. It kind of reminds Liam of a puppy, and he feels a flutter in his stomach at the thought of how adorable it looks.  

The tips of Liam’s ears burn. “Uh, yeah. I have Intermittent Explosive Disorder. My therapist explained it as ‘extreme bursts of anger, rage or violence, that are disproportionate to the situation at hand’.” He resist the urge to look away from Theo, wanting to read everything he can in his reaction. “It’s...probably part of why I punched you when you kissed me.”

“Oh,” Theo says, blinking. “So, like the Hulk?”

Liam nearly chokes. “Yeah,” he laughs, then shakes his head incredulously. “Fucking dork.”

“What? It’s a frame of reference!” The older boy grins brilliantly, then looks almost fondly at him. “Well, you’ve got a handle on it. I never would have guessed.”

“I take meds for it,” Liam shrugs. “Well, sometimes. They make me drowsy, so it’s hard to play lacrosse. Mostly I just work out a lot, go for runs, anything that’ll burn off excess energy and keep my cool.”

“Well, I’m thankful for that at least.” Theo’s smile turns almost wicked, and his eyes rake over Liam in an appreciative glance. The younger boy’s cheeks heat as a blush spreads furiously across his face and neck and probably lower. Theo seems to notice the effect, because the flirtatious look drops immediately. “Sorry. Was that too much?”

_Is he asking if it’s okay to flirt with me? Holy shit._

“No, that was—that was more than okay,” Liam grins, ducking his head and trying to ignore the way his heart’s threatening to beat out of his chest again.

“So, then,” Theo says, and he can tell by the tone they’re back to serious. “This is why you’re scared of me, huh?”

The younger boy nods, unable to meet his gaze. “Yeah.”

“And why you’re scared of coming out to your step-dad. Because then you’d have to explain about Devenford, and Brett.”

_“Yeah.”_

“Liam?”

“Yeah?”

Liam feels a light touch at the base of his chin, and swiftly realizes as Theo turns his head to face him that he’s left one of his hands in his lap. “I’m not going to do what Brett did, okay? I’m not that kind of guy. And even if I were, there’s no way I’d risk you taking a crowbar to my truck. She’s kind of all I have.”

Liam snorts, feeling the pressure in his chest ease slightly.

“I like you, but I won’t ever pressure you to do something you don’t want. I’ll take whatever you can give me, whatever you’re comfortable with, whether it’s an inch or a mile,” Theo continues, thumb brushing along his jaw. “And as for your step-dad… Liam, he loves you. Both your parents do. I haven’t seen them much over the course of our friendship, but I’ve seen enough to know that they love you more than anything in the world. And they’re going to continue to do so no matter what happens, no matter who you are.”

He feels the sting of tears in his eyes, and tries desperately to blink them back. “They’ll understand. Your _step-dad_ will understand. He won’t blame you, or be angry with you. If anything, I kinda think he’ll be just as angry as I am, if not more—but at Brett and your old school. Not at you.”

There’s the gentlest of featherlight touches on his face then, and Liam realizes that Theo’s hand has come up to brush away the tears he hadn’t realized he’d let go of.

He also realizes how close they are, because he can feel the older boy’s breath on his face, ruffling his bangs. He can see the hint stubble on Theo’s face, even the small mole on his left cheek that Liam’s somehow never noticed before. He can see the flecks of gold and brown in his green eyes as they flicker down to Liam’s lips, and warmth pools low in his gut.

Liam doesn’t realize he’s holding his breath until Theo asks: “Can I kiss you?”

He gives him the smallest, most infinitesimal nod, not daring to say a word for fear of breaking this spell.

When Theo’s lips meet his, it’s like a soft sigh of relief. Like the moment of silence before the beat drops in a song, or in between lightning and thunder. He counts the briefest of seconds before the older boy pulls away, eyes searching.

Liam doesn’t let him doubt for a second more, and presses their mouths together again. Theo’s fingers slip from his jaw into his hair, finding purchase at the nape of his neck. His own free hand comes up to tangle in the older boy’s t-shirt, grabbing at his waist.

Nobody’s ever kissed him like this before. This steals his breath and gives it back in one go. This sets his skin, his lungs, every atom of him on fire and soothes it like a gentle spring rain. This sets his toes curling and short-circuits his brain, just for a little while. Liam’s pretty sure that means every other kiss in his life has been wrong.

The same way it feels wrong when Theo pulls away after a moment, eyes fluttering open.

The younger boy exhales, eyes focusing on Theo’s soft, reddened lips. “Wow.”

“Wow, huh? I can work with wow.” Theo grins, and it’s brighter than Liam’s ever seen it before.  And then he winks. “Thanks for not punching me this time.”

His flushes. “Yeah. No problem.”

They both laugh, and Liam’s pleased to note Theo’s face is just as red as his. They’re quiet for several long moments, and Liam thinks of a million different things to say, but none of them make it past his lips. They’re either all too cheesy, or they’re questions he’s not sure he has a right to ask just yet.

“So,” Theo whispers, snapping him out of his internal spiral. “How about another shot?”

Liam frowns. “Huh?”

“You let me take you somewhere on a date. Officially.”

His heart skips a beat at the terrifying prospect. It must show on his face, because a moment later Theo is backpedaling, hand slipping from Liam’s face to raise in his defence, palm flat. His cheek feels oddly cool in its absence.

“Or unofficially. That works too! We don’t—ah,” his fingers toy with the piercing in his right ear, and Theo looks nervous as he shrugs. “We don’t have to call it a date. We can just hang out, as friends. Whatever you’re comfortable with.”

“You’re...you’re sure?” Liam asks, hating the way his voice trembles.

“Yeah,” Theo nods. “I’m not jumping the gun and making you freak out again. If you want to take things slow, then we’ll keep doing that.”

Warmth swells in his chest at the patience reflected in the older boy’s face. He’s willing to meet Liam halfway, to offer him what he wants, but respect Liam’s comfort level. He’s willing to wait until Liam’s ready. This doesn’t feel anything like it had with Brett. They’d come together messily, awkwardly, and hadn’t talked about things until it was already too late.

But Theo… Theo knows his fears, his doubts. And he’s more than okay with them.

Liam feels like he’s standing at the top of a ladder in gym class, prepping for a trust fall. Even though he can’t see it, he knows there’s a cushioned mat beneath his leap of faith that’ll catch him.

So he jumps.

Liam finds it far easier than before to lean in and press his mouth to Theo’s this time, despite the heartbeat pounding in his ears. He’s almost certain the other boy can hear his racing pulse this close.

“Okay,” he whispers. “An unofficial date.”

Theo’s answering grin is almost blinding. “Great! I’ll pick you up at eight tomorrow.”

“What?” Liam blinks, looking at the clock on his bedside table. It’s not terribly late, so they could still catch a movie or something… “In the morning?”

“The place I want to take you is closed already,” Theo says.

“But, tomorrow’s a school day.” Liam looks back at him with a frown. “You want us to _skip_?”

Theo raises a brow, smirking. “You’re forgetting one of my most attractive qualities, Liam. I’m a ruler breaker.”

“I wouldn’t call that a quality, honestly…” Liam laughs, and Theo places a hand over his heart.

“You wound me,” he grins, then swoops in, pressing his lips to Liam’s in a quick kiss as he slides off the bed, standing up. His gaze softens, and his shoulder raises in a half shrug. “Going during the day means no one we know will be there.”

The words thaw the uncertainty still frozen around his heart. Liam smiles up at him, gently. “Eight sounds perfect.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> haaave I made up for the cliffhanger last time? yes?


	4. the pay off

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I warned ya'll I was the laziest/slowest writer and also the most indecisive so here we are nearly two weeks later and GUESS who changed the chapter cap agaiiiin. So please bear with as I extend this garbage monstrosity along for two more chapters <3 beta'd by the lovely skaboom, and shoutout to Adri for kicking my ass through the last bit.
> 
> Fun fact: this fic was written ENTIRELY for the date scene. Like, that's literally all I went into this wanting to bring from the movie.

Theo takes him paintballing. 

There’s a huge course at the end of town that backs onto the Beacon Hills preserve, complete with obstacles and targets and even a few bunkers and shelters to take cover in. Given that it’s the middle of the day on a Tuesday, they’ve got the whole course to themselves. 

Liam’s never been paintballing before, didn’t even know this was here, but he’s always wanted to try. He and Mason played with airsoft guns as kids, sometimes, but it’s nothing like the bulky,  _ heavy _ rifle in his hands. 

And paintballs hurt a hell of a lot more than squishy nerf balls. 

“You’re a big boy,” Theo tells him when he sees the size of the little colourful balls, and the fact that they’re getting helmets. The older boy winks, causing him to flush as he zips up his padded vest. “You can take it, right?”

Since Theo’s already in all his gear, Liam responds by shooting him clean in the chest, splattering red paint all over him. The attendant doesn’t look too pleased with him, but Theo simply grins.

“Oh, it is  _ on,  _ Dunbar!”

This time, the name feels teasing, not like he’s putting distance between them, so it doesn’t bother him. In fact, it sparks his competitiveness, bringing forth an urge to absolutely destroy the other boy at his own game. He’s bouncing on the balls of his feet as the attendant finishes helping him with his helmet, tapping it to let him know he’s good to go.

“You’re going down, Raeken.”

“Only if you ask nicely,” Theo says, winking again. 

And then he fires, hitting Liam directly in the sternum. The little ball of blue paint explodes, and the younger boy feels some of it hit his chin. Between the double meaning and being shot, he’s completely thrown off-guard and Theo takes off at a run, cackling. 

Liam wastes very little time in giving chase.

He loses sight of him in the first five minutes, right after dinging the side of the shelter Theo disappears behind. By the time Liam circles around it, the older boy is nowhere to be found. But he can certainly see Liam, if the  _ splat _ of blue on his ass a moment later is any indication. 

Liam hisses out a curse, spinning around and aiming his rifle. There’s no sign of him anywhere. “What a shithead.”

“I heard that!” Theo’s voice says somewhere off to his right, and Liam ducks inside the small, wooden shack as a blue paint bullet whizzes by.

“Hah! Missed me!” Liam yells through the small window, peeking up slightly to try and find his target.

The next bullet hits the exact middle of his helmet, spraying blue all over his visor. 

“Oh my god!” Liam cries, wiping furiously at it with his hand. He does more harm than good, smearing it rather than removing it. “You asshole!”

He clears just enough of it away to see Theo duck out from behind a stack of boxes, moving for a wall of sandbags. Liam can barely make out the older boy’s shoulders shaking with laughter. 

He swings up his rifle, and fires two quick shots. 

The first hits the back of Theo’s leg, and he goes down on both knees just in time for the second one to hit him high on his back. He makes an awful noise that’s somewhere between a groan and a scream. 

“That went down my shirt!”

“That’s what you get for cheating!” Liam cackles as he makes a break for it, running full tilt for a shelter on the opposite side of the course. 

Once he’s close, he falls to his knees, skidding in the dirt through the front door. He’s rewarded for the move a moment later when he hears two paint bullets hit the wall by the door.

“Cheating?” Theo calls from outside. Liam strains to make out whether or not he’s moved from his spot. “How am I cheating?”

“I’ve never done this before!” Liam says, chancing a look out the door. He can just barely make out the top of Theo’s helmet over the sandbags. Carefully, he lays down, propping the rifle against a bucket outside the shelter. “Clearly you have. Going all out right away is definitely some kind of cheating!”

As predicted, Theo rises to follow his voice, rifle in hand. Liam fires the second he sees enough of a target, watching with delight as red explodes over the front of Theo’s helmet. 

He rolls back into the shelter, grinning as he hears Theo curse. It’s a moment of tense silence and Liam breathing heavily before the other boy responds.

“I figured you’d be offended if I went easy on you,” Theo laughs, and Liam’s eyes widen. His voice is definitely coming closer.  _ Shit.  _

He glances around him, but all the windows are barely big enough for his head, and there’s only one door. Which means only one exit.  _ Shitfuck.  _

_ Stall, Liam. Come on.  _

“Flattered, actually,” he says, lifting himself into a crouch. His eyes lock on the trench some ten feet from the bunker. “But if you really liked me, you’d let me win. Y’know, given that this is our first date and all.”

Liam dives out the door, firing blindly to his left. He hears the satisfying wet sound of paint hitting his target, and a startled cry. 

He hopes it’s enough to throw him off guard. 

But halfway to the trench he feels a stinging pain on his rear and high enough on his thigh it may as well be the same place as two paint bullets smack into him, and he knows it wasn’t. He stumbles, almost pitching head over heels into the trench with a yelp. He recovers partway down, skidding to a stop by what looks like a murder spot, smears of red and orange paint staining the ground. 

Liam moves on before he becomes another victim. 

“Will you stop hitting my ass?” Liam asks with a laugh.

“I’m just marking my territory,” Theo says, and Liam doesn’t need to look for him to know he’s wearing that infuriating smirk of his. 

The words set a furious blush loose on his face, and a heat pooling low in his gut. This version of Theo is different from the one he’s come to know the last few weeks. Not by much, but it’s like a weight has been lifted, like admitting their interest in one another has soothed away the confines of his unease. Like being out here, away from prying eyes and anyone who sees him for his reputation, Theo allows himself to be a handsome, flirtatious youth. 

It brings a smile to Liam’s lips. His heart is pounding in his chest in a way that’s familiar to him, partly from the paintball match, and partly from the storm of emotions brewing within. He’s already having a lot of fun. This might be one of the best dates Liam’s ever been on. And, well...

He likes Theo.  _ A lot.  _

Unexpectedly. 

Unequivocally. 

Un—

An explosion of blue paint sprays across his lower back and ass, and he stumbles face first into the grass with an unattractive squawk. 

_ Unfortunately.  _

* * *

At the one hour mark, Liam’s almost out of bullets, and looks like a reject from the Blue Man Group. His hair is plastered to his face and neck inside his stuffy helmet, and his feet are sore. Actually,  _ all _ of him is sore. And tired. And fucking  _ blue.  _

But there’s no way in hell he’s going to lose. 

He’s been keeping track. He’s been hit sixteen times, but with the last shot he’d broadsided Theo with after carefully biding his time under a small bridge for five minutes, Liam’s in the lead at seventeen.

He’s panting heavily at this point. He feels a twinge of shame, because his lacrosse games are longer than this, but then reminds himself that he doesn’t normally play a whole match,  _ and  _ there’s a break. 

“Duuuunbar,” Theo’s voice drifts out of the bunker he holed himself up in three minutes ago. The younger boy refuses to look up from behind his sandbag wall. He knows how this works, and he’s not getting more paint in his fucking visor. “What’s the matter, kid? Too chicken to face me?”

Liam bites the inside of his cheek. He’s just trying to get a rise out of him. Theo’s been taunting him all date, and sometimes he’s reacted enough to get himself splattered with blue paint. But not this time, no sir. 

“Says the coward hiding in a bunker!” Liam yells, sticking the butt of the paintball rifle up over the edge. A blue ball goes whistling past it.  _ Hah.  _ “Oooh, what a waste, Raeken! Can’t have too many of those left, I imagine.”

He hopes, anyway. Because he’s only got two. 

“You’re getting better at this,” Theo’s voice says from somewhere off to his right, and Liam freezes. He’s left the bunker. 

“What, paintball or shit talk?” Liam asks, staying crouched on his haunches, ready to move at the slightest sign he’s about to have company. 

“Flirting,” Theo says, and Liam leaps to his feet, whirling because the bastard has circled  _ around  _ him somehow. And is moving in fast. 

Liam fires, but he’s awkward and clumsy at being caught off guard, and the first shot goes wide. He realigns for the second one just as Theo crosses the line into  _ too close _ and fires. 

The gun clicks, empty. 

He miscalculated. 

_ Fuck.  _

The older boy barrels into him in a full-bodied tackle. They hit the sandbag wall and the air whooshes out of Liam’s lungs as the barrier falls apart under them. They land in a mess of sand and burlap and limbs and laughter. 

“What the hell was that?” Liam wheezes, glancing down at Theo. The older boy is sprawled on top of him, but Liam’s back is pressed against two sand bags that held out, giving him a little bit of leverage. 

“I was out of bullets.” Theo’s smile is almost blinding, green eyes glittering with mischief. It’s then that Liam realizes he’s not wearing his helmet.

“That’s against the rules,” Liam says, bringing up a hand to tap the older boy softly on the head.

“Too hot under there.” When Liam lets out a hum in agreement, Theo reaches up to unclasp his helmet, sliding it off the younger boy’s head. “Better?”

His face still feels hot for a reason that has nothing to do with the stuffy headgear. 

“Yep,” Liam lies, and hopes like hell Theo can’t feel his heart skip a beat from where he’s pressed against Liam’s chest. Granted, he probably doesn’t need to, given the colour staining his cheeks. 

“Good,” Theo smiles, crawling closer, propping himself on one elbow so his face is only inches away. His eyes never leave Liam’s. “It would have gotten in the way.”

Liam licks his lips, and delight flares in his chest as Theo’s eyes flicker down to them. They darken, pupils going wide and black. Warmth floods Liam’s body in response and he doesn’t wait for Theo this time—he leaps first, leaning up to press their mouths together. 

Liam kisses Theo gently at first, then with greater fervour. His fingers curl against the older boy’s chest, gripping tightly at the edge of the vest despite the paint making it a little slippery. Theo’s hand comes up to cup his cheek, his thumb stroking lightly over his skin. It’s cold and sort of wet, and Liam’s one-hundred percent sure he’s smearing paint across his face, but he’s also certain he doesn’t care. 

Theo’s other hand comes to rest over Liam’s hip, the tips of his fingers touching skin where the younger boy’s shirt has rucked up in the fall. The feather-light touch sets Liam aflame as Theo’s digits dance across his hip and stomach purposefully. 

Liam lets out a ragged little gasp as Theo’s tongue slides into his mouth, and repositions his hands in the other boy’s hair and t-shirt, pressing them more firmly together. His heartbeat speeds up, pounding against his ribcage with a loud and insistent need to be closer to Theo. 

Which is of course when Theo chooses to push up, bracing himself on his forearms to stare down at Liam. His hair is tousled, his lips are swollen and his eyes are wide and wanting. There’s a streak of red on his cheek, and Liam flushes because he doesn’t even remember putting his hands there. 

“What?” Liam whispers, because it’s all he can manage. 

Theo smirks. “As much as I’m enjoying this,” he murmurs, leaning down to skim his lips over Liam’s cheek. “We should probably get moving.”

“Why?” Liam croaks out around a gasp, because Theo’s mouth has continued to move down to his neck, nibbling at the soft patch of skin under his ear, leaving the rest of him tingling. 

When Theo laughs, his breath ghosts across the shell of Liam’s ear. “We’re kind of still in the middle of a paintball field, and any minute now that attendant is going to notice us. I know I’m not a fan of rules, but I  _ am  _ a fan of coming back here, and that’s a little difficult if we get banned for making out on the course.”

The foggy cloud of lust in Liam’s head clears at the words, and his eyes widen. He almost jerks upwards, but remembers at the last second that Theo is still half on top of him, and he instead ducks his head into the crook of the older boy’s neck with a groan.  _ “Oh my god.” _

Liam feels the laugh rumble through Theo’s chest, his face and cheeks burning with embarrassment. He can’t believe he’d been so caught up in the moment, in the safety and warmth of being that close to the other boy, that he’d totally forgotten where they were. 

“C’mon,” Theo says, disentangling himself and rising to his feet, taking all his body heat with him. He offers a red-tinged hand to Liam, who drags his gaze up to Theo, and immediately snorts. There’s blue on the tip of his nose, no doubt transferred from Liam’s neck, and it clashes horribly with the red already on his cheek. The older boy quirks a brow. “What?”

“You’ve got paint all over you,” Liam chuckles, taking his offered hand and allowing Theo to pull him to his feet. They stand close together, and Liam reaches up to touch the taller boy’s nose.

“Do I?” Theo’s question is laced with the same mischief glittering in his eyes. His fingers brush against Liam’s cheek. “Does it look half as good as it does on you?”

Liam flushes, grin splitting his face. “Better.”

Theo laughs, stooping to pick up his discarded rifle as the tips of his ears turn red. “Let’s go, before I give up on decency and decide I’m okay with getting banned.”

Heat flares up low in Liam’s stomach as he grabs his paintball gun and hurries after him. The attendant gives them the most unimpressed glare as their turn in their helmets, eyes scrutinizing every inch of their tousled hair and mismatched paint smears. 

She stays blissfully silent as Liam passes her his rifle and moves past her, but then Theo’s handing her his gun and he hears a little  _ hmph _ escape her lips. “You had a bullet left, you know.”

Liam pauses mid-step, turns back.

“Did I?” Theo raises a brow, but he’s not looking at the attendant—he’s smiling at Liam. “Must not have noticed.”

_ If you really liked me, you’d let me win.  _

“Have a good day,” Theo says brightly to the girl, heading towards Liam. As he falls in step next to the younger boy, starting towards the parking lot, Liam ducks his head, smiling at the flutter in his chest. His hand bumps against Theo’s once before he works up the courage to reach out and claim it, tangling their fingers together. 

They’re nearly at the truck when Theo speaks. “So?”

“Hmm?” Liam looks up, tilting his head. 

“My place or yours?”

Liam sputters, nearly tripping over the curb as they step down at the truck. “W-What?”

“Relax,” Theo laughs, the corners of his eyes crinkling with mirth as he waggles the red and blue fingers of his free hand. “We’re covered in paint. We both need showers.”

“Oh. Right.” Liam’s cheeks burn. “Um, I think my mom was finishing a case from home today.”

Theo nods. “My place it is.”

He unlocks the truck, and briefly disappears into the backseat. When he surfaces, it’s with towels to drape across their seats. Liam can’t help the smile that tugs at his lips.

“I’m not getting this shit all over my truck.,” Theo says, then gets in. The younger boy laughs and clambers in after him. They’re pulling out of the parking lot when he asks: “So, how’d I do? On a first date scale, I mean.”

“Well,” Liam grins, folding his arms behind his head, leaning back in his seat and smiling at the other boy. “Unofficially, you got a 7.”

Theo makes a face, masking it a moment later with a chuckle. “That’s...not my best score.”

“I mean, you made out with me in the middle of a paintball field where anyone could see us. As far as subtlety goes…” Liam trails off, catching the red flush make its way across the older boy’s face. “Officially, though… I’d say you earned a 9.”

Theo blinks, hands tightening around the wheel. He raises a brow at him. “Officially?”

“Uh, yeah,” Liam says, and tries to shrug casually. He’s pretty sure his nervousness comes off loud and clear, especially since he feels his cheeks burning. “I mean, we’re gonna count this as our first date, right? Even if I… haven’t figured out how to tell anyone yet?”

“Works for me.” A beat, as the older boy turns into a neighborhood not that far from is, then: “Not that I’m fishing, or anything, but how would one get a 10?”

The flush deepens. “Well, typically first dates are for finding out more about each other, right?”

“That’s fair,” Theo nods, and there’s something wistful on his face as he slows at a stop sign. He turns to Liam with a smile. “What do you want to know?”

“What?” Liam frowns. That hadn’t been the response he’d expected.

“In the interest of getting to know one another better,” the older boy shrugs, eyes returning to the road. “Ask me a question.”

“For free?” There has to be a catch.

“We could do question for question, but…I feel as though I’ve got you pretty figured out.”

Liam raises a brow, even though Theo doesn’t see it, seeing as he’s driving. “Oh, really?”

The mischievous grin that stretches across Theo’s lips accepts the challenge wholeheartedly. As he turns at the next light, he inhales, then starts talking. 

“Lacrosse bro, but not your average jock, considering you’ve got heart. History buff, who’s gotta be destined for teaching or running his own museum. Bad at math and biology, but pretty decent at chemistry. Likes reading, but not much fiction. Can remember the name of the General from that Christmas truce in 1914 but not where he put his phone five minutes ago. Fiercely loyal and protective of his friends, but they’re few, seeing as how important trust is.” Theo turns to look at him, green eyes intense enough that Liam wishes he could sink further into his seat than he is already. 

He’s pretty sure his face matches the red paint smeared on Theo’s cheek as the older boy winks, finishing with: “Anger issues, but has a really good handle on them. Which is almost a pity, because you’re really hot when you’re mad.”

Liam’s  _ also  _ pretty sure he’s never blushed this hard in his life. His hands twist together in his lap, and his face splits into a grin. “Y-Yeah, that’s… That’s pretty accurate, I guess.”

“Yep,” Theo grins, finishing the word with a loud  _ pop. _ He waves a hand at Liam. “So, ask me your questions, bridgekeeper, I am not afraid.”

Liam shakes his head, laughing at the reference. “Alright. Uh, favourite colour?”

“Really?” The older boy snorts. “That’s what you’re starting with? Blue.”

“Shut up! I figured I’d start small, work my way up to the rest.”

There’s amusement dancing across his features as he speaks. “Peppermint candy and Chipotle, horror movies and anything written by Stephen King, cats over dogs, and you already know my favourite bands. There, now you can hit me with the good stuff.”

Liam fidgets in his seat, playing with the hem of his shirt. He knows what he wants to ask, but he’s not sure if he’ll get an answer he likes. If he’ll even get one at all. So instead, he decides to work his way up to it.

“Did you really light a deputy on fire?” He asks, hoping he doesn’t sound as nervous as he feels. When he looks over, there’s a soft, patient smile on Theo’s lips, even if he’s not looking Liam’s way. 

“Technically, but it was an accident,” Theo says, reaching up to rub the back of his neck. “He thought I was trying to set fire to a  _ building _ with some firecrackers and we tussled for them after I’d already lit the fuse. They went off and sparked all over his uniform pants. S’what you get for using too much starch.”

Liam quirks a brow. “ _ Were _ you trying to set fire to a building?”

“That’s besides the point,” Theo says, then flicks his eyes to Liam, and ducks his head. “I wasn’t in the greatest place, emotionally.”

The younger boy holds his breath, because that’s his opening, right there. He could easily ask why, bring up the other boy’s year of absence. He thinks that maybe he might actually get an answer. But as the question bubbles up, making its way to the tip of his tongue, he chickens out.

Instead, he continues with the smaller steps. “What about the poisoning?”

“Tracy bet me she could drink two cans of Four Loko and  _ not _ die, despite being the size of an angry toddler. I had to take her sorry ass to emergency, and got blamed for it until she woke up to tell them different. It’s not my fault she’s as big of an idiot as Josh is, sometimes,” Theo shrugs, then chuckles. “And before you ask—the electrocuting thing actually  _ was _ my fault. Josh and I were out when my sister called because her car had died on the way home from the bakery. While I was trying to jumpstart her car, he hit on her. So one of the jumper cables went off a little.”

Liam knows it probably makes him a bad person, but he still laughs. “God,” he grins, shoulders shaking with mirth, “you  _ are _ a dick.”

“No,  _ Josh _ is a dick. He did it on purpose because he knows it pisses me off.”

“Your sister’s an adult, you know,” Liam smiles fondly, seeing the tick to Theo’s jaw and the way his shoulders are hunched. “She can take care of herself.”

Apparently those aren’t the right words to say, because the older boy stiffens, shadows clouding his face. Liam notes idly that the truck speeds up just a tad, and he swallows, hard. “Um, well, with a high schooler, I mean. Like, she’d know not to—“

He clamps his mouth shut, desperately trying to pull his foot from it. 

“I know what you meant,” Theo says so softly that Liam almost misses it. His fingers tighten around the hem of his shirt as he clears his throat. 

“Oh, good!” He chuckles, and this time the shakiness is obvious. “Well, what about the coyote thing?”

It draws a hint of a smile from Theo, so Liam considers it a win. “Myth.”

“The motorcycle incident?”

“Happened, but gets blown way out of proportion.”

“Well, I know the porn career’s a lie.”

That one earns him a laugh, Theo’s shoulders loosening and lips twisting up into a smirk. “Oh? Do you?”

Liam’s heart stutters as he realizes  _ how _ he’d have to know that. “I—uh—Mason looked you up,” he stammers, feeling his face heat fiercely. He clears his throat, hoping with everything he has that the lie sticks, because there’s no way in hell he’s going to admit out loud that  _ he’d _ looked it up. Recently.

Theo absolutely doesn’t look convinced, and Liam remembers just how annoying that smirk can really be. He coughs, looking away and out the window just as they slow down, pulling into a driveway. The truck engine quiets as Liam admires the house. It’s smaller than his, but they’ve got a porch, and the garden out front that trails around the back of the house makes it look bigger. 

The sound of the driver door brings his attention back to Theo as he clambers out of the truck. Slowly, quietly, the younger boy follows. He debates the words left behind his lips, the only question remaining now that he’s covered the biggest rumours he’s heard about Theo. 

He’s staring at his feet as they walk up the drive, so lost in thought he almost misses it. “Liam.”

“Hmm?” 

He  _ definitely  _ misses it when the other boy stops on the top step—so he barrels right into him. A strong arm loops around Liam’s waist, keeping him from toppling backwards as his arms flail at his sides. Eyes wide, he looks up into Theo’s green ones, crinkling with uncertainty. 

“Why don’t you just ask me what you really want to know?” He whispers, breath ghosting over Liam’s lips. The intensity in his eyes sends a shiver down his spine. 

Liam takes a deep breath. 

“What did you stop yourself from saying yesterday, in my room?”

He sees the surprise. It’s brief, just the barest flicker of it across the swirls of green, before it disappears and Theo’s shoulders stiffen. Clearly it hadn’t been the question he’d been expecting. Theo blinks at him wordlessly, and Liam wonders if this is what he’s looked like every time the other boy has put him on the spot in the short amount of time they’ve known each other. 

He thinks it should be fair, but mostly he just feels bad. 

“It’s okay,” Liam says quietly, and he doesn’t have to move very far to press their lips together. Theo relaxes into the kiss, the arm he’s got wrapped around Liam loosening, hand sliding to rest on his lower back. When he pulls away, he presses his forehead to Liam’s. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

He feels the brush of warm air against his lips as Theo chuckles, closing his eyes. “No, I want to.”  There’s a lack of warmth as he steps away from Liam, motioning to the top step. “Sit.”

Liam obliges him, thigh pressing against Theo’s as the older boy takes a seat beside him, then inhales deeply. “So, I don’t have to ask if you know Scott and Stiles, right?”

Liam frowns a little, but nods. Scott had been one of the first people he’d met after transferring to Beacon Hills High. He’d gone to lacrosse tryouts, wiped the floor with everyone, and the captain had immediately taken him under his wing. Alongside his awkward, mouthy best friend. It had been such an immediate, stark contrast from Devenford Prep that it had helped ease the pain and anger he’d felt by leaving it all behind. 

“I used to be best friends with them,” Theo begins, staring at his hands as he folds them in his lap. “We grew up together, actually. Met playing little league.”

“ _ You _ played baseball?” Liam’s eyes widen, and he can’t keep the grin from his lips. It seems to help, as Theo relaxes when he looks up to see it.

“It’s little league, doesn’t everybody?” Theo rolls his eyes. “Anyway, we used to be inseparable. Well, Scott and me, anyway. Stiles and I… we didn’t always get along. I put up with him for Scott’s sake, he did the same for me, and the three of us did everything together. Until sophomore year, at least.”

His gaze drops away again, to his hands, and Liam watches it darken. He pulls his bottom lip between his teeth and carefully, cautiously, reaches out to take one of Theo’s hands in his. “What happened sophomore year?”

Theo’s quiet a moment, before: “A lot. Things weren’t exactly… great, at home. My parents—my dad, especially—wanted me to be someone I wasn’t. Wanted me to be more like Tara, their perfect kid. He came down on me hard for it, sometimes—sometimes with more than just his  _ words _ and instead of dealing with the pressure the  _ right _ way… I started acting out. I skipped classes, started smoking, got  _ caught  _ smoking behind the school, got detention one too many times and got kicked off the lacrosse team.”

“You played  _ lacrosse _ ?” This time Liam’s sure his eyes are bugging out of his skull, he’s staring so hard. He focuses on that, instead of the painful revelation about his father, knowing that if he dwells too long on it, his own demons will might crawling back. Theo laughs, ears turning red, which he takes as a good sign. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Theo says, shoulder knocking against the younger boy’s. “Can I keep going?”

“Right, sorry,” Liam ducks his head, biting his lip. His heart skips a beat as Theo’s eyes flicker down to watch. “Go ahead.”

Theo shakes it off, taking a deep breath before continuing. “Where Scott went, so did I. We switched from little league to lacrosse in seventh grade. But Scott… he was better at it than Stiles and I. He cared more, tried harder. By sophomore year, he’d gotten pretty damn good. Like, first line good.  _ Captain _ good. And with everything in my life going  _ wrong _ … They didn’t forget about me, per se, but they definitely didn’t notice anything was wrong, either. We drifted apart, slowly. They made new friends through lacrosse, while I started hanging out with Tracy, Josh and Corey. It shouldn’t have mattered. People change when they hit high school, when they get older. Sometimes, it happens...But I—”

Theo’s voice catches, and his mouth clamps shut abruptly. Liam can see shadows swirling in the depths of his eyes, and he softens. He squeezes Theo’s hand, unsure of what to say but wanting to offer his support all the same. It’s a strange reversal from the previous night.

“I clung to Scott, with what little hold I had on my old life, and he was more than happy to indulge me. We—” Theo flushes, looking away and into the street, like it’ll stop his next words from knocking the air right out of Liam’s lungs. “We hung out, played video games when I wasn’t grounded. I went to his lacrosse games when I wasn’t banned from them. I tried to pretend like everything was fine.” 

_ I thought for sure that that was it—you were going to hate me. I’d ruined yet another friendship because I’d fallen for someone and— _

“You liked him, didn’t you?” The words leave Liam’s mouth without him noticing, whispered so softly that for a moment, he doesn’t even think Theo will hear him. But he does.

Slowly, green eyes find his again, and Liam sees the misery reflected in them. His chest aches, and his other hand reaches out to tangle with Theo’s. “What happened?”

“He started dating Allison.”

By the time he’d met Scott, he and Allison had already been dating for almost a year. She was kind to Liam whenever she came by practice with Lydia, and he admired that she took no shit from anyone, ever. He remembers the way Scott’s eyes lit up like a night sky filled with stars whenever he’d looked at her. He can only imagine what it must’ve felt like, watching someone you cared about look at someone else the way you looked at them. The way you  _ wanted _ them to look at you.

He imagines it doesn’t feel all that different from watching two people you had residual feelings for make out against a car. The ache in Liam’s chest worsens, and he’s pretty sure if he squeezes Theo’s hand any harder, he might break it.

“It wasn’t a big deal, at first,” Theo shrugs. “But then, he started bailing on plans with me. And I… wasn’t that great about it, honestly.”

Liam grimaces. “You were a dick, weren’t you?”

The older boy nods, sighing and leaning forward, pulling one of his hands from Liam’s grasp to card it through his hair. He rests his forehead against it afterwards, face solemn. “I snapped. Scott and I argued, and I was stupid enough to let it happen in front of Stiles. He got in the middle, accused me having feelings for Scott and said I was just jealous. That I’d  _ always _ been jealous, even of him. He told me that just because  _ my _ life was a fucking mess it didn’t mean theirs had to be.”

Liam’s heart lodges itself unpleasantly in his throat. “Theo…”

“What? It’s not like he was wrong.” The older boy’s gaze snaps up, and beneath deeply buried pain, Liam spots anger. He knows it’s not directed at him, so he does his best to soothe it, running the pad of his thumb over the hand he still holds. Theo’s shoulders relax, slightly, and he breathes out. “And I know that. I knew that then, too. It’s exactly why I walked away from them. I cut all ties and I never looked back.”

His next words are low, quiet. “It just got worse after that. I spiralled, and then—” his voice catches again, and something dark passes over his face. Theo squeezes Liam’s hard as he processes whatever it is, then regains his composure, straightening. When he speaks again, he’s calmer, more detached. “I dropped out.”

Liam knows from the tone of finality in those words that he’s not going to elaborate further. And honestly? He’s okay with that, for now. He has a feeling that he’s seen more raw honesty from the older boy in the last thirty minutes than most people have in… well, since his sophomore year, probably. And it explains a lot. 

“That’s why you don’t date, isn't it?” Liam says, letting loose a breath he’s not sure when he started holding. “You sleep around, but you don’t actually let anyone in because it means you might get hurt again.”

Theo lifts one shoulder in a half-shrug. “It’s easier.”

“Not always,” Liam says, and he rubs small circles in Theo’s palm with his thumb.

Despite the catalysts being different, they’d both shut themselves off from people to prevent the heartache. But in the end, is it really any better? He’d nearly fucked things up with Theo because he’d been afraid. And just because he’d avoided guys, it didn’t mean he hadn’t gotten his heart broken anyway. 

“Is keeping people a distance really worth the loneliness?”

“It was,” Theo smiles, and it’s a little sad at the edges. “Until you.”

“Me?” Liam asks, warmth spreading across his whole face and neck. He resists the urge to duck his head like a coward, and forces the words he’s held in since that first day out past his lips. “Why me? How did I even  _ get _ on your radar?”

Theo barks out a laugh. “Oh, very forcibly. You remember that day in Biology when Hewitt sat with me? 

“Oh, God,” Liam groans. “He didn’t.”

“He did.” He clears his throat, looking away and rubbing at the back of his neck awkwardly. He sounds nervous as he speaks, but Liam doesn’t think anything of it, because his own heart is thundering in his chest. “He told me you were down on your luck, and that you needed a little push. He also said something about me fitting a type?”

Another groan escapes his lips, and Liam covers his face with his free hand. “I’m going to kill Mason.”

“I wouldn’t, if I were you.” Theo’s voice sounds closer, and gentle fingers pry the younger boy’s hand away from his face. He’s met with a soft smile. “Because he also told me what a great guy you were. It took me a little bit to see it after I found my footing, but…”

“God,” Liam says, breath mingling with Theo’s at such close proximity. “You know being this cheesy just ruins the whole bad boy thing, right?”

“I can handle that,” Theo grins, resting his forehead against Liam’s. He doesn’t think about how they’re still sitting on his porch, and anyone could walk by and see them. He doesn’t think about the butterflies raging in his stomach, or the way his heart threatens to burst out of his chest. 

All he can think of is the green of Theo’s eyes, and the smile he feels pressing against his lips a moment later. His free hand falls to his side as Theo’s fingers slide across his jaw, gently tilting his face up into the kiss.

“Well, in the interest of ruining my reputation further…” When Theo pulls away, his smile has turned nervous, uncertain. “Liam?”

“Yeah?”

“Go to prom with me.”

Liam makes a choking noise, eyes going wide. “What?”

“You heard me.”

That’s definitely panic fluttering in his chest now as he shakes his head. “No,” he says. “I don’t think I did. Because… I’m pretty sure you asked me to prom, and that would be fucking ridiculous.”

“Why?” Theo asks, lips twitching into a smirk. 

“It’s not your scene?” Liam frowns, trying to deflect, hoping it’ll stop the rising tide of anxiety. Because going to prom with Theo isn’t subtle, it isn’t lowkey… it sends a very obvious message that Liam’s not sure he knows how to handle.

The older boy shrugs. “You’re not wrong, but apparently it’s tradition, or something. Especially seeing as you’re captain of the lacrosse team that just won Championships. And I figure—you hate everyone, I hate everyone. Why not hate everyone together at this stupid thing?”

“Why are you doing this?” He can hear his voice rising, hear it pitching closer to hysterical as his panic bleeds into anger. “You said we’d take it slow. Unofficial.”

Theo blinks at him, taken aback. “Well, yeah, but—I thought paintball went pretty okay, and…” He trails off, eyes flicking down to their hands, intertwined in his lap. “I’m kissing you in broad daylight on my porch?”

“In the middle of a Tuesday, when everyone else is at school!” Liam points out, sliding back, away from him. His hands slip from between Theo’s fingers as his shoulders bunch up. “Everyone that would—that would figure it out the second we walked into prom together. And my dad? I can’t just—that’s not something I can  _ hide _ from him!”

Theo frowns, and his eyes are soft, but Liam spots the tick in his jaw instantly. “Aren’t you tired of hiding?”

“Ugh,” the younger boy seethes, “Did Mason tell you  _ that _ , too? Did he fucking put you up to this?”

“What?” He leans away slightly, looking startled. “No.”

“Then  _ why _ are you doing this?” Liam asks again, somewhere between a frantic whine and a hiss. “You don’t strike me as the prom type.”

“Is it too hard to think maybe I want to be?” Theo says, shrugging. “That  _ you _ make me want to be?”

“Yes!” he snaps. The panic is clawing its way up his throat now, making the words spill out in a mess. “Last night you told me you were okay with slow! And this? This is the opposite of that. I mean,  _ prom _ , really? That’s exactly the kind of spotlight you know I’d hate, after what happened. And unless… unless this is some sort of fucking  _ joke _ to you, I—”

The words catch in the back of his throat, strangled as he stands up abruptly, nearly bowling Theo over. 

“No, it’s not!” Theo says, reaching for him. He keeps his arm firmly out of the older boy’s grasp, backing down one step from the porch. “Liam, hang on—”

But he doesn’t. 

Instead, he shakes his head, turning away and hopping the last two steps in his hurry to be as far away from Theo as possible. “Liam, please—wait!”

“Leave me alone, Theo!” Liam yells, not bothering to look over his shoulder. If he sees an apology in those green eyes, he might just turn back. And that’s not something he wants to do right now. 

“You’re just gonna walk away from me then?” Theo calls after him, and this time he sounds angry.

_ Good _ , Liam thinks.  _ Because I’m angry too.  _

Angry enough that he shouts, without thinking: “You should be used to that by now!” 

And stomps off down the street. 

* * *

It takes him a block and a half to feel bad. 

Not turn-back-and-apologize bad, because he’s still fuming, but certainly enough to feel guilt bubble up in the pit of his stomach. 

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. 

Theo was supposed to be different. Not just because Liam really liked him, but because he seemed...different. Thoughtful. _Genuine._

Softer with him than Brett ever had been. 

The thought of his ex sends another fresh wave of anger rolling through him, but it’s hollow. It lacks fire. Because Liam knows he’s not mad about that, not really. It’s a factor, but… he’s mostly mad at himself, for overreacting. For letting his temper get the best of him.  _ Again _ . 

_ “At least you didn’t punch him this time?”  _ Mason offers when he calls to tell him what happened. Well, parts of it, anyway. 

Liam groans. “If that’s where we’re setting the bar, then that’s pathetic.”

Then, it clicks. 

“Wait, how do you know I punched him last time?” Liam blinks. “I didn’t...I didn’t tell you what happened Friday night.”

_ “No, but… he did?” _

Liam almost chokes. “He what?” He throws the hand not holding a phone up into the air. “When?!”

_ “Corey and I sort of… accosted him in study hall.” _

“You’re not in his study hall,” Liam frowns, because they’re in  _ his _ study hall. And they’d been in it yesterday.

But they hadn’t been in History. 

“Wait a minute…”

_ “We were looking out for you!”  _ Mason says defensively. _ “That is a totally worthy cause for skipping class!” _

“It’s better than what I  _ thought _ you were doing,” Liam mutters, and hears his best friend snicker on the other end of the phone. 

_ “Listen, he was miserable yesterday, okay? I think he really likes you. I wasn’t sure at first when I—when I approached him, but…” _

“But?” Liam takes a shaky breath, holding it tightly in his chest.

_ “But he seems pretty invested. Especially if he’s asking to take you somewhere he normally wouldn’t,” _ Mason explains.  _ “I think… I think he’d be good for you, Li. It’s why we picked him.” _

Liam snorts. “I feel like my best friend  _ shouldn’t _ be encouraging me to date the bad boy.”

_ “I mean, if you end up happy, why not?”  _ He hears the sigh come through loud and clear before Mason’s voice drops cautiously.  _ “Look, Liam. I get that you’re scared, but I don’t think you have to be. He’s not…” _

As Mason pauses, Liam pictures him pursing his lips the way he doesn’t when he’s trying to think of the right way to say something. It makes the hair on the back of Liam’s neck rise. 

_ “He’s not Brett.” _

Liam inhales sharply, sucking in too much air. It results in a painful burn in his lungs, a tightness in his ribs, and him skidding to a stop in the middle of the street, nearly falling flat on his face as his feet knock together. He doubles over, palm slamming against his chest as he tries to cough the discomfort away. 

The abrupt move causes him to lose his grip on his phone, and it slips from between his fingers and face. “Fuck!” It clatters onto the pavement, and Liam’s heart lurches.

He can distantly hear Mason calling for him as he finishes his coughing fit, stopping to pick it up. He thanks the little bit of luck he has left that it landed on the case back and not the screen. 

_ “Dude! Are you okay?!” _

“Yeah,” he rasps, bringing the device back to his ear. “Yeah, I’m here.”

_ “Did you fall?” _

“Almost.” The world is tight, snapped like an elastic between his lips. 

_ “Oh, God,” _ Mason breathes.  _ “I’m so sorry.” _

Liam makes a noncommittal noise, and starts walking again. He doesn’t trust himself to speak, doesn’t know if he wants to ask how or why or anything at all. His pulse is thundering in his ears so loudly it’s a wonder he hears Mason speak first. 

_ “I don’t exactly know what happened between you two at Devenford, okay? But I know something did. I’m your best friend. I’ve seen the way you look at him.” _

Liam opens his mouth to speak, but nothing comes out.

_ “I’ve never asked, because if you wanted to tell me about it you would’ve. And I’m certainly not going to ask  ** him ** . Mostly because I’m pretty sure he and his eight pack would kick my ass after I punched his teeth in. If his jawline didn’t break my hand first.” _

He huffs out a quiet laugh, and the weight on his chest lifts a little. Sometimes he forgets that his best friend is the most amazing person on earth. 

One who’s not done talking, apparently. 

_ “I’ve always assumed he was the root of your fear, but I didn’t want to push. I didn’t want you to tell me if you didn’t want to—” _

“Mason—”

_ “And I still don’t!”  _ He says quickly.  _ “So you don’t have to explain, okay? Just listen. You got hurt, and it left you with some deep scars, and I get that. But you shouldn’t let that keep you from being happy. From giving a chance to someone that I think could make you happy. And I know that it’s scary, but I’m going to be there every step of the way. Corey, too. We figured we’d go as a group.” _

Liam sputters. “Wait, really?”

_ “Yeah, of course!”  _ And he can picture the exact awkward wince Mason’s making with his face just by his tone when he adds:  _ “It… It was Theo’s idea, actually. He didn’t want you to be uncomfortable.” _

He thinks back to Theo’s wild eyes and the stammered beginnings of an explanation, and he groans, wiping a hand down his face. He wants to kick himself. Or maybe crawl into a hole in the woods and never come out.

“Oh my god,” Liam says, cheeks burning. “I didn’t even let him explain.”

Slowly, he drags himself over to the curb and sits down. He cards his free hand through his messy hair, sighing. “I fucked up, didn’t I?”

_ “I wasn’t going to say it.”  _ Mason says patiently. The smile’s evident in his voice.

“How do I fix it?” Liam groans, throwing his head back. His whole body follows suit until he’s flat against the sidewalk. The concrete is surprisingly cool against his back.

_ “You say yes.” _

Liam hangs up several minutes later after promising to text Mason details once he’s figured them out. He lays on the sidewalk, staring up at the clear blue sky, one arm crossed behind his head. The other’s clutching his phone tightly to his chest, just above his heart. 

Liam closes his eyes, and thinks about how much fun he had today. 

About how Theo let him win.

About what it felt like to hear secrets about Theo’s past that he probably hasn’t shared with many people, if anyone at all.

About how every time Theo kisses him it feels like his heart stops and the world bottoms out beneath him.

He cracks one eye open, and peers at his phone, holding it up to block out the sun. With three quick swipes it’s ringing, and he can see  _ Theo Raeken _ across the call screen for the first time ever. Liam tries not to think about how terrifying that is as he presses the phone to his ear.

Theo picks up in the middle of the second ring.  _ “Liam?” _ He sounds breathlessly hopeful.  _ “Thank God! Listen, I need to explain—” _

“It’s okay,” Liam says softly, and he hears a  _ clack _ that sounds remarkably like someone’s mouth clamping shut abruptly. “I talked to Mason.”

There’s a long, drawn-out silence. Then:  _ “Oh?” _

“I’m sorry for overreacting. I’m sorry for what I said. I’m sorry for jumping down your throat and not giving you the chance to explain.” The words are tumbling out of his mouth, hurried but thankfully not a mess. Liam’s pretty sure he’s lost control of his motor functions at this point, but he doesn’t care. “I’m—yes.”

_ “...Yes?” _ Theo asks cautiously. 

“Yes,” Liam says, grin splitting his face. “I’ll go to prom with you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ta-dahhh. You wanted to know more about Theo's past, and now you do. There is one thing missing, but that'll be explained at some point over the next two chapters. ~~When will this hell end so I can write other fic~~
> 
> Next up: Being strong and going to PROM.


	5. the climax

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this chapter is dedicated to [Adri](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ithinkwehaveanemergency), who had to literally hold fluff hostage to get my ass in gear. And also for helping me pick out the songs featured in this chapter, which are Lifehouse's _You and Me_ and Hoobastank's _The Reason_. Thanks, girl  <3
> 
> Other songs they probably danced to at Prom: ~~aka the songs I listened to while writing~~  
>  \- _Lose Control_ , Hedley  
> \- _Get Up And Dance_ , Faber Drive  
> \- _Moon_ , The Cab  
> \- _Drunken Hearts_ , Wallpaper  
> \- _Cake by the Ocean_ , DNCE (at least twenty times)

There are very few sights in Liam’s life that have taken his breath away. Mainly because he’s not that attentive, and he often misses the little things. But when something strikes him in a way he can’t help but stare, awed, he remembers them.

Like his first sunrise, camping in the Redwoods with his parents the last weekend of summer as a young boy.

Or moonlight dancing across Hayden’s skin the first time she’d laid beneath him, long hair spilling across his sheets.

Or the delight and relief that had washed over Mason face when he’d told him the truth about being gay for the first time in the middle of a COD match, and Liam had simply grinned and said, “So? I’m still not letting you win.”

Liam wants to add the prom decorations to this list. Really, he does. With red and white banners pinned to the furthest corners of the room, looping in towards the massive chandelier above the stage. With round, paper moon lanterns strung along the outer walls, casting a soft light on the red sheets draped over every table and chair, and illuminating the longest one at the back that boasts a punch bowl and snacks. With huge, star-shaped lights hung from the ceiling, dangling over the dance floor and bathing it in twinkling light.

He wants to say those are the things he notices as he walks into his senior prom for the first time, but he’d be lying through his teeth.

Instead, Liam’s breath catches at the sight of Theo standing slightly off to the side, waiting for him. His hair is artfully tousled, and in the starlights, it looks almost softer than usual. His suit is crisp and entirely black, down to the dress shirt, but with his jacket undone in a way that lets Theo rest his hands in his pockets, Liam can just barely see the white suspenders underneath. The only spot of colour is the blue pocket square, the one that matches Liam’s tie.

Subtle, but it still manages to chase the air right out of his lungs.

He forgets how to breathe for a whole fifteen seconds, rooted to the spot, until Theo’s gaze slides towards the entrance Liam, Mason and Corey have just stepped through. His face lights up with a grin bright enough to rival every bulb in here as he makes his way over. It’s not until he’s there, within reach, that Liam begins functioning like a normal human again, breathing in the spiced, earthy scent of the older boy.

“You like?” Theo winks, his voice dropping so that only Liam can hear him. He doesn’t trust himself to speak, so he simply nods. “Thank Mason, he picked it.”

Liam’s gaze flickers to his left, where his best friend is beaming at him, decked out in a dark purple suit. He winks, too, then looks away to join Corey in scanning the tables to their left, placing his hand on his boyfriend’s lower back.

They’re not early by any means, but most of their classmates are still milling about outside, taking pictures by the fountain and rock garden, while the ones inside are huddled together by the _Class of 2014_ backdrop, posing or joining the steadily growing line waiting for the photo booth. All of them looking to commemorate tonight with the people they care about most, to immortalize memories that’ll last forever. Even years from now when half of them won’t remember each other.

Liam’s chest tightens strangely, and he frowns.

Before he has time to question it, Theo leans forward, close enough to whisper in his ear. “You don’t look so bad yourself, Dunbar,” the older boy purrs. And then he pulls away, taking the butterflies with him, stepping back and out of his space to a more careful distance. But his eyes look Liam up and down in a way that makes his skin heat. He tugs at the collar of his shirt, swallowing hard.

And then Corey makes a triumphant _aha_ , breaking the moment. They look over to see the quiet boy motioning for them to follow him. He takes off in the direction of a round table in the back of the cluster. There’s a square post next to it that supports the upper balcony, obscuring the dance floor slightly, but also offering them their own quiet corner. Liam’s instantly grateful as Mason and Corey take the two most visible seats, backs to the crowd, leaving Theo and him the other two spots, tucked away in the back. Warmth blooms in his chest.

As he goes to sit, Theo’s there, pulling the chair back for him.

Liam’s cheeks flush. “Thanks.”

“As cute as that was,” Mason says, catching their attention. Corey’s chin rests on his shoulder, mischievous grin across his lips. “You’re not getting comfortable.”

“Why not?” Liam asks, eyes narrowing.

“Because of that.” His best friend tosses a thumb over his shoulder, towards the entrance. More and more teenagers are spilling in, and before long the hall is filled with the sound of their chattering, and the dull buzz of a sound system turning on. “And that.”

Liam follows the pointed finger up to the stage, where the DJ is setting up. A moment later, their classmates cheer as music starts up around them. He looks back, fully planning on protesting whatever Mason has in mind, but his best friend is close enough he can see the excited gleam in his eyes.

“C’mon,” he says, grabbing Liam’s hand. “We’re dancing.”

He lets himself be dragged to the dance floor, shooting Theo a pleading look and wondering how in the hell he got talked into this.

* * *

Liam’s tired.

 _So_ tired.

His feet hurt, his arms ache, and his throat’s starting to get sore from too many group sing-alongs. He’s also sweating in places he’s not sure he’s ever sweat before. Except on a lacrosse field, maybe.

It takes all the energy he currently has left to hauls himself back to their table. On the way, he peels himself out of his suit jacket. He’s the only one that still had his on, because the other three simply hadn’t let him _leave_ the dance floor. Mason had indicated he would sit down and never come back, and while Liam had been offended, he hadn’t denied it.

But finally, after a few hours, they’d all needed a break for something to drink or eat, and had dispersed, leaving Liam to wander back to their table, physically dragging his feet. He drapes his jacket over the back of his chair, then spins it in place and plops down onto it. He exhales deeply, feeling exhaustion trickle in from the tips of his fingers and toes. He’s pretty sure he hasn’t danced this hard in his life.

And Liam knows he’s not that good of a dancer. His feet were built for a lacrosse field, not a dance floor, and on occasion tonight he’s had two left ones. And he only knows one move. One that Mason has reminded him several times isn’t a move at all, and in fact makes him resemble a pigeon. But it hasn’t mattered to Theo once. The older boy’s had bright eyes and a contagious grin on his face all night, and between him, Mason and Corey, Liam has barely stopped moving since they got here.

The three of them have kept him in the middle, in their own little circle. Mason’s danced goofily with him, or shown off his own superior moves, pulling Corey along to the beat. And Theo? Well, he dances well enough for them both. They’ve all kept him included, upbeat and happy, making Liam feel like there’s no one else here but them. And truthfully, no one else matters.

Theo’s certainly looked at him that way all night. Sure, he’s laughed and danced alongside Mason and Corey, but his eyes have barely left Liam. There’s been an intense look burning in their green depths from the moment he’d mentioned his appreciation for Liam’s outfit, and it’s only gotten stronger the closer they’ve danced together.

Or, well, near each other. As a group. With Mason and Corey.

Because as much as he’s having fun, Liam hasn’t had the courage to dance with his own date. Alone. Every time a slow song’s come on, they’ve both just awkwardly shuffled off to the side. Theo’s crossed his arms and leaned back against the post by their table, looking like he’s surveying the crowd alongside the awkward, quiet boy.

But Liam’s still felt his eyes.

Especially the three times a girl has crept up to ask him to dance. As he’s turned them down as politely as possible, Liam has felt Theo’s gaze boring into the back of his head.

The last time, the girl had run off, nearly in tears and Theo’s derisive snort had drawn his attention. “You can say yes, you know,” the older boy had said, brow raised. “If you wanted to.”

“I don’t,” Liam had replied softly, watching the corner of Theo’s mouth quirk upwards.

Because there’s only one person Liam wants to dance with tonight. He just needs to loosen up enough to ask him.

Sitting there, he watches Mason and Corey return to the dance floor, with eyes only for each other, and Liam feels his chest tighten. He wants that. He wants to be happy, and carefree. He wants Mason to be right every time he’s said it’s going to be okay, that nobody else’s opinion but his own matters, given that it’s his own damn life.

And really, he knows his best friend is right. Most of these people he doesn’t even _like_ , let alone care about their opinion of him. Most of these people he’s never going to see again after high school, if he remembers them at all.

His eyes drift towards the decorated wall at the opposite end of the hall. There’s a group of three lacrosse players over there now, laughing as they clamber into the photo booth together. But there’s no one else in line behind them.

 _This isn’t like last time_ , Liam reminds himself.

This time, it’s his decision.

He stands, fully prepared to hunt Theo down and drag him to the photo booth. But as he turns, Liam almost collides with someone.

“Holy shit!” He yelps, and falls back into his chair with a thump.

Tracy smiles down at him, and it’s somewhere between  predatory and amused. “Hi.”

“Uh.” Liam frowns, forehead wrinkling. “Hi?”

Her head tilts to the side a little, like she’s assessing him. Her eyes twinkle in the starlights.

“Can I help you with something?” Liam asks tentatively. He reaches up to rub the back of his neck, feeling the warmth of his own skin. “I’m uh—I’m not interested in a dance, if that’s what you’re here for.”

“It’s not.” Oh. The smile’s _definitely_ predatory now. “Where’s your date?”

Liam blinks, ignoring the way his heart stutters. “I, uh, came stag?”

He almost winces as her smile grows. That was probably the least convincing lie that’s ever left his mouth.

“I came with my friends,” he tries again, nodding towards where Mason and Corey are dancing.

Tracy hums, fingers dancing across the top of Theo’s suit jacket on the chair next to him. She drags it away from the table, dropping into it gracefully. She flips the side with the pocket square over the left side of her chest, and the twist of her lips turns almost fond.

Her eyes dart to Liam’s tie, and then up to his face, where they soften. “Cute. Subtle.”

He swallows thickly, trying to get rid of the lump in his throat. “You know, don’t you?”

Tracy picks at a loose strand on her dress, lifting one shoulder in a half-shrug. “It’s not hard to figure out, if you know him.”

Which she does, of course. She’s known him longer, from before Liam even came to Beacon Hills High, and if he’s being honest… She probably knows more about him, too. He sees the opportunity there, to ask her questions the way Theo’s apparently done with Mason and Corey.

Instead, he blurts out: “Where’s your date?”

Tracy raises a single brow at him, lips twitching. Obviously, she hadn’t been expecting that.

“I came stag,” she says, winking.

“Oh.” Liam blinks. He could’ve sworn he’d seen her making out with the Beth from Biology earlier. “What about Josh?”

Loud and twinkling laughter answers him. It sounds strangely pleased.

“He couldn’t make it,” Tracy tells him, before leaning closer and dropping her voice to a conspiratory whisper. “He came down with a very nasty case of black eye.”

Liam frowns, confused. He blinks at her several more times. “Uh, don’t you mean pink eye?”

“No. I don’t.”

Tracy splays the fingers of her right hand out, seemingly admiring her nails. One is chipped. The smile woven across her lips is wicked. And unsettling in a way that makes Liam shiver, but he shakes it off, eyes once more finding his best friends on the dance floor. He wonders where Theo is. He’d headed for the washroom earlier when they’d split.

They sit in companionable silence a moment before Tracy speaks.

“Hey, Dunbar?”

“Hmm?”

“You don’t have to be afraid of him.” He turns to look at her, and Liam watches Tracy’s face soften as she speaks, staring out at the dance floor. “He’s been through a lot, and I know what he’s like sometimes, but… T hasn’t looked this happy in a long time. He hasn’t looked at _anyone_ the way he does you in even longer.”

Liam can feel his heart in his throat as Tracy inhales deeply, sliding her gaze back to him. Her smile is wistful, but her eyes are gentle in way that’s unexpected. Liam wonders briefly if Theo’s not the only one who’s far more than just his reputation…

“Nobody’s opinion should matter but yours. If people care about you, then this isn’t going to make a difference to them. It doesn’t change who you are.”

“Yeah…” He nods, biting his lip. “I guess.”

Tracy is quiet a moment before: “I’ve met your dad, you know.”

“What?” Liam sputters at her, and she looks amused.

“He’s the one that saw me at the hospital when I was… poisoned.” Liam tries very hard to keep a straight face now that he knows _how_ she ended up there. “He was really good with me, and talked me down from a panic attack by using stories of you, as a kid. With your anger.”

Liam tenses, posture going rigid. Tracy’s fingers tap gently against her lap.

“He’s a good father, Dunbar. You got nothing to worry about,” she says, rising to her feet. Tracy smooths her dress with one hand before looking down at him. “I just wanted to tell you that. And to let you know that if anyone _does_ say shit, I’ve got your back, okay?”

“Why?” He frowns, and his head tilts as he considers her.

Tracy smiles, all her hard edges softening in seconds. “Because you’d be good for him. And it’s about time he had something like that.”

And then she’s sauntering away, as quiet as she came. She steps around their table, and as Liam’s eyes follow her, they find Theo waiting awkwardly off to the side. The younger boy feels the weight of his eyes pressing him into his seat, anchoring him in place. Neither acknowledge Tracy as she slips past, fingers ghosting up Theo’s arm and patting at his shoulder.

“So,” Theo says, exhaling deeply. “Did she say anything I should be worried about?”

Liam chuckles softly. “Nothing I didn’t already know.”

He stands, and wiping his sweaty palms on his dress pants. Theo’s eyes follow the move for the barest of seconds before they’re burning into him again. Liam can feel his heart hammering in his chest, the words gathering at the tip of his tongue, but refusing to quite spill over. He steps closer, hoping it’ll give him the last little bit of courage he needs.

It doesn’t.

Liam opens his mouth, then closes it a second later, so abrupt he hears his teeth clack together.

Theo’s lips twitch up slightly, and he tilts his head towards the dance floor. The beginning notes of a slower song drift over, and Liam notices as people pair off or skitter away, back to tables and chairs. There’s hope twinkling in Theo’s green eyes when he looks back to him. “Do you want to…?”

Relief washes through him like a wave. A breath shudders out of him. “Yes.”

Tentative fingers reach out, wrapping around his own, and Liam feels warmth crawl up his arm through their touch. He lets Theo pull him forwards a few feet before he drags them to a sudden stop. “W-Wait!”

Theo looks over his shoulder, raising a brow.  

“Um,” Liam bites his lip, eyes darting to the other end of the hall. The booth is empty, and there’s no one around it, waiting. “I was thinking maybe… doyouwantotakepictures?”

Theo huffs out a laugh, the look on his face fond. “Wanna try that again, with maybe more breaths?”

The fingers wrapped around his tighten. Liam hopes his hand isn’t as sweaty as the rest of him. “Do you...Do you want to go to the photo booth with me?”

Theo’s eyes widen, and his gaze flickers to where Liam’s has just been. The younger boy’s chest tightens and he feels the tips of his fingers shake. “Uh, if you want to, I mean. We don’t—we don’t have to if you don’t—It’s stupid, right? I thought it might be too—”

“Okay,” Theo says.

There’s the tiniest of flutters in his pulse. “Yeah?”

The older boy squeezes his hand, shrugging. But there’s a smile on his lips that’s answer enough. Still, he nods. “Sure, Cheeseball.”

Liam turns a very deep shade of pink. “Shut up.”

This time, Theo lets himself be dragged away. Liam pulls him along, trying to keep the nervous, giddy bounce out of his step. And more or less failing miserably, if the older boy’s delighted chuckle is anything to go by. They cross the room in barely any time at all, and Liam nearly rips the curtain off it’s hinges.

Liam all but tumbles into the photo booth, tugging Theo in after him. They plop onto the seat, thighs and shoulders pressed together, and Liam frowns immediately. There’s something digging into his back.

He slips forward, closer to the screen, letting go of Theo’s hand to reach blindly for the object behind him. He comes away with a black snapback, branding stitched messily across the front, and his frown deepens. “What the fuck?” Liam glowers. “Who brings a hat to prom?”

“All the cool kids,” Theo says, snatching the hat from him without missing a beat. He twirls it around, raking his fingers through his hair to comb it back, then sitting the hat firmly on his head. Backwards. With little bits of his hair sticking out the front.

It looks...good.

“Problem?” Theo smirks, raising one brow as if daring Liam to call him on it. And really, truly, he wants to. The older boy’s just stuck a stranger’s hat on. There’s no telling where it’s been. But as he sits there, close enough to Theo that he can see the flecks of yellow and brown in the green of his eyes, and the way his cheek dimples beneath the mole when his mouth curves up attractively like this…

The younger boy flushes instead, looking away from him. “Nope,” He croaks.

It looks _very_ good. And from the way Theo’s eyes are bright and his smile is knowing, the fucker’s well aware of it. So instead of giving him that satisfaction, Liam busies himself with the booth screen, tapping it awake.

It comes alive with a little jingle and almost blinds him. Images of happy teenagers in little, four-photo strips appear on screen, alongside stars and swirls of colour. Words flash at the bottom: _Photos ready in minutes!_ There’s a little arrow that points upwards, telling him where the camera is, another that points down to the slot where printed pictures emerge, and two buttons next to the screen. One labelled START and the other, PRINT.

Liam sucks on his bottom lip, holding back a grin. “Ready?” He throws over his shoulder.

“You realize this destroys the last bit of bad boy reputation I have, right?” Theo snorts. He loops one arm around the younger boy’s waist, scooting him a little bit closer.

“You didn’t need it anyway,” Liam winks. He’s pleased when it causes a light dusting of colour on the other boy’s cheeks.

He presses START, sitting back and leaning into Theo’s warmth. The screen flashes, and their faces are reflected back at them, causing him to grin. A little red countdown appears in the corner, and the booth fills with a ding for every number.

_5._

“So, uh,” Theo starts. “Do people normally plan this sort of thing?”

“What?” Liam blinks.

_4._

“Or do they just go with whatever they’re feeling?”

“I don’t know! I’ve never done this before!”

“Really? You’ve dated girls. Isn’t this cheesy shit their aesthetic, or whatever?”

_3._

The noise that comes out of Liam’s throat is somewhere between offended and panicked. “I thought it’d be cute!”

“That explains so much.”

_2._

“Just make a face!”

“A face?” Theo raises a brow.

“A funny one!” Liam squawks.

_1._

Liam leans into him, eyes widening dramatically and lips pursing into an awkward, exaggerated smile. He feels his cheek touch Theo’s as the older boy puffs them out.

The flash goes off, and their image remains frozen on screen for a moment before the countdown resets and they’re moving again.

_5._

“What was that?” Liam laughs, half turning to glance at Theo.

“What was what?” Theo tilts his head, feigning an innocent look.

_4._

“You looked like a blowfish!”

“And you looked like an awkward deer, about to get hit by a car. Your point?”

_3._

Liam smacks his arm. “Dick.”

“Pretty sure those aren’t allowed out in here.” Theo waggles his brows, and Liam’s entire face heats as the older boy lifts his arm, dropping it around his shoulders. He leans back against the booth wall.

_2._

“Pity these aren’t colour pictures,” Theo hums.

Liam glowers at him.

_1._

At the last second, he sticks his tongue out sideways, keeping his eyes trained on the screen. Theo, on the other hand, opens his mouth wide in some sort of mock-roar. He leans back far enough that as the flash goes off, taking their picture, the hat falls off his head.

The counter resets, and Liam reaches behind his date to grab the snapback.

_5._

He slides it onto his own head, spinning it so the bill is at the front. He winks at Theo, who’s brows rise up beneath his bangs, messy and unkempt from their time beneath the hat.

_4._

He cards a hand through it, brushing it back again into place. His lips twitch upwards. “You know, that doesn’t look half-bad on you.”

_3._

“Yeah?” Liam grins. “That mean I’m one of the cool kids?”

“Well, I wouldn’t go _that_ far.” He barely resists the urge to kiss that infuriating grin off Theo’s lips.

_2._

He settles for sticking his tongue at him again.

“You keep doing that, your face will get stuck that way.”

“What are you, my mom?”

_1._

“I fucking hope not, Oedipus,” Theo grins, tongue peeking out between his teeth. He turns to face the screen, sticking it out all the way and leaning into Liam, pressing their cheeks together.

The move nearly bowls the hat off his head, so Liam has to reach up and grab the bill. It tilts sideways, and he has just enough time to direct himself at the camera before the flash goes off. Their ridiculous faces elicit a laugh, bubbling up from deep in his chest.

The counter resets and _LAST ONE_ appears on the screen.

_5._

“Hey, Liam?”

He feels Theo slide impossibly closer, his arm dropping back to the younger boy’s waist.

“Hmm?” Liam hums, before laughing again as he almost slips backwards out the other end of the booth. “I’ve got no space, asshole!”

_4._

“I can fix that.”

In one swift motion, Theo’s swept him into his lap. His arm wraps tighter around Liam’s waist, keeping him steady.

_3._

The move knocks the hat off Liam’s head, and deftly, the older boy catches it before it hits the ground. He doesn’t break eye contact as he flips it back onto his head, winking. “Better?”

Liam entire face and neck heats. “Much.”

_2._

Theo’s free hand reaches up to push Liam’s hair back, out of his face. His fingers ghost down the younger boy’s cheek, coming to rest on his arm.

_1._

Theo’s smile is nearly as dazzling as the flash, and Liam’s eyes flicker down to it a split second before it goes off.

And then he’s leaning in, capturing Theo’s mouth with his.

Warm and soft, the older boy’s lips part slightly, allowing Liam’s tongue to slip inside. He can feel the soft tickle of Theo’s breath beneath his nose, and the fingers on his arm come up to tangle in his hair as they breathe each other in. The smell of his cologne is dizzying as Liam leans into the kiss.

The booth beeps loudly, startling them apart, though Theo tries to give chase. He frowns when Liam gets too far, but the younger boy only half sees it, turning instead to look at the screen. _PICTURES READY!_

A grin brightens his whole face, and he jabs out a finger to press the button marked PRINT. There’s buzzing and a handful of noises that should probably make him concerned, but then a moment later it quiets. There’s a gentle _thunk_ as a photo strip drops into the tray beneath the screen, and Liam snatches it up.

They look like complete and utter dorks, but warmth blooms in his chest anyway.

He holds it out for Theo to see, watching as his green eyes twinkle with mirth through the first three, then soften as they get to the last photo.

“Now,” Liam says, “I believe we had a dance to get to?”

“Thank god,” Theo exhales. He pushes Liam off of him, forcing him out through the curtain. The younger boy makes a disgruntled noise, and turns back to his date with an offended look. Theo just looks amused. “What? If we took any longer, we were going to miss it.”

“Miss what?” Liam frowns.

“The songs I requested.”

“You—songs— _what?_ ” Liam sputters.

Theo winks at him, tossing the hat back into the photo booth behind him, then taking Liam’s hand. “C’mon, Cheeseball.”

“ _I’m_ the Cheeseball?” The younger boy feels his heart skip a beat as they start moving, and he quickly pockets the photo strip to keep from losing it on the way to the dance floor. “You requested a _song_.”

“Two, actually.”

Liam wonders, not for the first time since meeting Theo, what he’s done to deserve him.

They find Mason and Corey on the dance floor just as the next song starts, and he knows from the fond smile on his date’s face that this is one of the songs. Theo turns to him, settling one hand on his lower back, pulling him closer until they’re nearly flush. His eyes never leave Liam’s, assessing, waiting for the shorter boy to tell him to stop, to put distance between them.

But Liam threw caution out the window about ten minutes ago, when he’d dragged Theo into a photo booth. This is what he wants. And Liam shows him as much, wrapping his left hand around Theo’s right, holding it up. His other hand slides up Theo’s _chest, coming to rest on his shoulder. He hears Mason coo to his right, followed by a grunt when Corey steps on his foot._

 _'Cause it's you and me and all of the people with nothing to do, nothing to lose_  
_And it's you and me and all of the people_  
_And I don't know why I can't keep my eyes off of you_

They move slowly, Liam smiling softly when he realizes what song’s playing. It’s not until the first chorus is done that he feels Theo exhale, breath ghosting over his ear, words tumbling softly from between his lips.

 _All of the things that I want to say just aren't coming out right_  
_I'm tripping on words_  
_You got my head spinning_  
_I don't know where to go from here_

“I was home.”

Liam frowns, leaning back far enough that he can see Theo’s eyes, misty with tears.

“What?”

“That’s where I was last year. I wasn’t in jail, or under house arrest, or whatever else they say I did. I was home, looking after my sister.”

Liam feels his throat tighten at the sad look on Theo’s face. “What happened to her?”

“Not to her—our parents.” He feels the hand at his back tighten in the fabric of his shirt, and he squeezes the older boy’s shoulder, offering silent support. “They died in a lab accident. They were doctors—scientists, I guess. Mom was a brilliant geneticist, and Dad was a pathologist. They’d started working on something together just the year before, meaning they weren’t around much. And when they were, well…”

Liam nods slowly, remembering what Theo’s already told him about his father. He feels his heart shatter as it strikes him, suddenly, that Theo wanted to be a doctor when he was younger.

“There was a fire. At least, that’s what I was told. I was at school when it happened, taking my finals for junior year. Tara…” Theo’s voice cracks, his bottom lip quivering. “Tara was there. She’d just finished culinary school and come home to ask them for an investment. There was this ratty old building downtown that’d closed up years ago, and she wanted to buy it. Fix it up.”

“Her bakery…” Liam whispers.

“She barely made it out. She was in a coma for three weeks afterwards, and I never left her side. I missed finals, I missed retakes. I dropped out,” he shrugs, chewing on his bottom lip. “I helped her recover, spent all my time with her at home. Josh and Tracy came by sometimes, but…”

His eyes flicker briefly to Corey, who’s lost in Mason’s eyes, swaying slowly back and forth.

“I wasn’t in a good place, and not everyone could handle it. Corey couldn’t, and I understand that. I don’t blame him for leaving. I was lashing out at those closest to me but… I never actually told anyone what happened, those two just sort of… figured it out.” Theo swallows, warm breath peppering Liam’s cheeks as he exhales. “When she was healthy enough, Tara started working on the bakery. We put almost every dime of insurance money into it, along with blood, sweat and tears. But she wouldn’t open it, once it was finished.”

Liam frowns. “Why not?”

“Because I’d missed most of my senior year helping her, and she didn’t want that for me. She made me swear to re-enroll in the fall, go back and finish high school. I did my finals that summer to test back in, and signed all my papers the day she put up the sign for the bakery. I spent the rest of the summer working with her, until I came back to school. But I still help out when I can. Saturdays, mostly.”

Liam’s heart feels far too large for his chest, and there’s tears in his eyes that match the ones glistening in Theo’s. “I’m so sorry.”

“I’m not,” Theo says, but it’s barely above a whisper. A wet chuckle follows it. “I was spiralling, heading in a direction that wasn’t good for anybody. But that year with Tara… We were close as kids. She always took care of me and stood up for me, but when she left for college… we sort of lost touch. She’s my best friend, and I think—I think she helped make me a better person. The kind of person who could care again, who could _feel_ …”

His eyes search Liam’s face, drifting over his lips, his nose and settling on his eyes again as Liam realizes the song has changed. They burn with an intensity he can’t look away from. “The kind of person who might deserve someone like you, if I tried hard enough.” It’s almost magnetic, and his body floods with warmth as he realizes he recognizes this one, too.

 _I'm not a perfect person_  
_There's many thing I wish I didn't do_  
_But I continue learning_  
_I never meant to do those things to you_  
_And so I have to say before I go_  
_That I just want you to know_

They both have scars. They’ve both been hurt, and have had trouble coming back from that. But here, pressed tightly against Theo, Liam can’t imagine wanting to heal with anyone else.

 _I've found a reason for me_  
_To change who I used to be_  
_A reason to start over new_  
_And the reason is you_

“You don’t have to, anymore,” Liam murmurs. “I’m here.”

Theo smiles softly, and leans down to press their mouths together. By now it feels familiar. Liam knows how they fit together, with Theo’s arm wrapped around his waist, and the younger boy’s hand on his shoulder.

 _I'm sorry that I hurt you_  
_It's something I must live with everyday_  
_And all the pain I put you through_  
_I wish I could take it all away_  
_And be the one who catches all your tears_  
_That's why I need you to hear_

He finds himself chasing Theo’s lips, but the older boy rests their foreheads together, keeping him from demanding more. “Liam.” His voice cracks. “Wait, I—I need to tell you something. I—”

A loud wolf whistle drowns out whatever words he’d been about to speak.

Liam freezes. He watches the tick form in Theo’s jaw. His hands clench on instinct, and he has to remember that one of them is holding Theo’s. He drops it before he squeezes too hard, and the hand at his back falls away, too.

“Wow, Dunbar. I didn’t think you had it in you!” He knows that voice, but still turns to see Gabe standing there, surprise written on his face, but trouble woven across his lips. “When did you turn gay?”

Liam scowls. He knows better than to rise to the bait. He and Gabe have never gotten along, and the other boy has spent their entire high school career trying to undermine him on the lacrosse field. Still, he opens his mouth. “It’s called bise—”

“And for Theo Raeken, of all people?” Gabe chuckles, ignoring him. Liam spots Nathan, the only other repeat senior in their school, standing at his back. “Have you already tamed the beast, or is this your first date? You know he walks away after that, right?”

Anger boils in his blood, and the edges of his vision blur with red. Liam can feel his patience evaporate. The calm, happy mood he’d just been in feels like a dream. Distant and unattainable.

“Liam,” Theo whispers, reaching for him. He ducks out his grasp, shaking his head. He’s not letting this happen to him again. To either of them.

“He’s not like that,” Liam seethes. He’s vaguely aware of most of their classmates clearing off, giving them space. Mason and Corey stand to his right, wearing twin looks of concern.

“Oh, I’m sure that’s what he told you,” Gabe snickers, and Nathan claps him on the back, laughing. “He probably gives himself extra points for turning a straight boy.”

“You’re one to talk. Didn’t you sleep your way through half the swim team?” the shorter boy spits, nails digging into his palms as he struggles not to throw a punch. “And I’m not straight. I’m bisexual, you asshole.”

Gabe sneers. He opens his mouth, presumably to say something just as biting back, but a small figure steps in between them. Petite, brunette, and wearing a green dress Liam’s already seen once tonight.

Tracy crosses her arms over her chest, and Liam can’t see the face she’s making with her back turned to him, but he assumes it’s scary, if Gabe’s wide eyes are anything to go by.

“Mind your own fucking business, dick,” she snaps, and brings her very pointed stiletto heel down on his foot. Gabe howls in pain, doubling over and coming down to just the right height for Tracy to slam her knee into his stomach.

Nathan scowls at her, patting at Gabe’s back in an effort to stop the coughing. “You bitch!”

“He had it coming,” Tracy rolls her eyes, and then the crowd of people parts as Coach Finstock appears, fuming and red in the face.

“What the hell is going on here?!” He looks between the three of them, and Liam feels his heart pound harder in his chest with every second that ticks by. Fingers press against the inside of his wrist, calming him with a touch and he glances over to see Theo staring. But at Tracy, his lips parted slightly in awe.

“She attacked me!” Gabe spits, pointing an accusatory finger at her. Tracy steps back from him, half-turning so Liam can see face. She looks effectively like the cat that ate the canary.

“Is this true?” Finstock asks, hoisting the boy to his feet.

She shrugs. “Might be.”

“Dammit, Stewart, what did we talk about last time?” Finstock sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Only hit people who deserve it?” She smiles sweetly, batting her eyes at him.

Finstock looks unamused. “Detention. Tomorrow.” He looks at the rest of them. “Now, I trust you can all behave yourselves while I walk Miss Stewart to the door?”

Liam blinks. _Wait, what?_ _She’s getting kicked out?_

No one says a word, so Finstock motions for her to follow. As she does, Tracy throws a look over her shoulder at him and Theo. And _winks._

“He did deserve it, you know,” they can hear her telling Coach. “He was being a homophobic prick.”

“He _what_!?” Finstock pauses, but by the time he’s turned around, Liam follows his gaze to see Gabe has disappeared into the murmuring crowd of students. He glowers, then continues on his way to the exit with her. “Somebody let Matarazzo know I’ll be back to speak with him!”

Liam stares, utterly dumbfounded by what just happened. Tracy put herself in the middle of a fight that would probably have gotten _him_ kicked out. Despite her words earlier tonight, he’s still shocked. And he doesn’t seem to be the only one.

Theo’s staring after her. His face is pulled into a tight frown, his lips drawn thin and face ghostly pale. Despite that, there’s a sad sort of look in his eyes. It makes Liam’s chest ache. He thinks about Theo’s sister, then. About how few people have stood up for him, and had his back, especially after cutting nearly all of them out of his life.

Liam reaches out, touching his fingers to Theo’s wrist this time. The older boy doesn’t look at him, merely hums and raises a brow.

“Theo. You okay?”

His voice seems to do the trick. He drags his gaze from the empty hall entrance and down to Liam. Theo blinks, as if noticing him for the first time.

Liam smiles softly, and notices Mason nodding his head towards the end of the room. Towards their table. Corey offers him a reassuring look. “You want to sit down for a minute?”

“Yeah,” Theo nods after a moment. “Yeah, sorry.”

And he trails behind Liam, fingers twined tightly together. He takes a seat as soon as they reach the table, looking up at the younger boy. “How did you end up taking care of me?” He laughs, and it sounds a little off. “Are you… Are you okay with everything?”

“Yeah,” Liam says breathlessly. “I think I am.”

He leans down and presses a kiss to Theo’s lips. His heart flutters a little, like on the dance floor, because he knows how wide-open this is. But he doesn’t mind anymore who sees or knows. He feels oddly freed by the realization of what he said to Gabe. Lighter.

He knows there’s something bothering Theo, though. Whether it has something to do with Tracy coming to their defense, or maybe whatever he’d been about to say on the dance floor… Liam figures it can wait until the older boy is comfortable and back out of this weird stupor. Y’know, the one that’s making him look slightly nauseated.

“You want something to drink?” he asks, gentle lilt to his voice.

It earns him a half-smile back. “Sure. Thanks.”

“I’ll be right back.”

Liam squeezes his shoulder, then steps back. Mason and Corey are right there when he does, Mason beaming proudly at him, while his boyfriend takes a seat next to Theo, bumping shoulders with the older boy. It fills his chest with warmth.

As he makes his way over to the snack table, Liam makes a mental note to take his best friends out to dinner or something, as thanks. For being so incredibly helpful and patient through the whirlwind his life has been the last few weeks.

Liam wastes very little time at the table, zeroing in on the punch bowl almost immediately. He pauses only for a brief second to snatch a pastry off a little three-tier platter, and stuffs it into his mouth. Given that his stomach had growled upon seeing it, he deems it necessary. Also, it seems to calm whatever leftover jitters he has about the encounter with Gabe.

Part of him has been waiting for the other shoe to drop all night, despite how awful it sounds. He really hadn’t thought it would be this easy.

Which, of course, is when the universe decides to remind him it’s _not_. Because the punch bowl ladle is only halfway to his cup when a voice interrupts.

“Seems like you’re having a nice night.”

Liam blood runs cold, shoulders locking up instantly. He sucks in a breath and stares straight ahead at the wall, unwilling to move. Maybe, if he doesn’t turn, the other boy will just go away. Maybe he’ll crawl back into whatever hole he came from, and leave Liam to his _nice night._

But Liam knows he’s never been that lucky. Not where Brett is concerned, anyway.

“Your prom seems pretty _picture perfect_ , firecracker,” the taller boy says, and Liam hears the rustle of clothing as he steps closer.

“Don’t call me that,” he snaps, and curses himself for breaking so quickly when Brett chuckles.

“Right, sorry. I guess pet names are someone else’s responsibility now, huh?”

“What the fuck do you want, Brett?” Liam hisses, slamming the half-full cup down and whirling to face the other boy. He’s vaguely aware of juice sloshing out of the cup and over his hand, but he can’t bring himself to care. “What are you even doing here?”

Brett smirks, and it’s so very like the one reserved for opponents on the lacrosse field that Liam feels an alarm bell go off internally, somewhere. It’s danger and mischief and he regrets asking immediately, before he’s even spoken.

“I’m Hayden’s date.”

“Of course you are,” Liam rolls his eyes. “Because my night couldn’t get any worse.”

“From where I’m standing, your night looks just fine,” Brett purrs, leaning in close.

Liam recoils, stepping back, clearing both is personal space and his head. Brett’s cologne smells just as strongly as ever, and it’s almost overwhelming. The taller boy’s gaze softens only for a moment, and it’s so quick Liam almost misses it.

“Listen, Liam,” he sighs, and he’s back to classic Brett with a single eye roll. “I didn’t know who she was at the party, okay? I swear. How would I?”

“You have eyes. You’ve been to our school. We weren’t exactly… a lowkey couple,” Liam grimaces, fingers drumming against the table by the cup he wants to just pick up and leave with.

“But you’re much more lowkey now, aren’t you?” There’s something knowing about the uptilt to his lips that sets Liam’s teeth on edge. He needs a way out of this conversation, and _fast._ There’s no way he’s discussing whatever is being implied, because it’s his business. Business Brett bowed out of years ago.

“Look, you’re free to date whoever you want, dude,” he says, trying for nonchalance with a shrug. “I don’t give a shit anymore. If you make each other happy, cool. You kind of deserve one another, honestly. If you don’t, well, whatever. You couldn’t pay me to care less.”

Liam grabs the cup, leans closer to the punch bowl to scoop enough in to replace what he’d wasted, then turns. He barely makes it two feet.

“Funny you should say that,” Brett chuckles. “You’re welcome, by the way.”

Liam stops. His brows slowly knit together in a frown, and he lets loose an annoyed huff. He knows better than to rise to whatever bait Brett’s just thrown him. He’s smarter than that.

“For what?” He asks tightly.

Well, he’s _supposed_ to be smarter than that.

“Your hot date?” He can hear the smug smile before he turns to see it woven across Brett’s lips. Hadn’t he _just_ decided this wasn’t a conversation they’d be having?

“He’s not…,” Liam trails off, watching Brett’s eyebrows rise far into his fluffy, curled hairline. The shorter boy scowls. He _had_ just kissed Theo in the middle of the dance floor, in front of his entire graduating class. And, apparently, their jackass dates.

“It’s okay, Liam,” Brett winks. “I’m in on it.”

His eyes narrow. “In on… what?”

“The Help Liam Come Out party?”

“What?” Liam scowls, and something twists low in his gut. “What are you talking about?”

This time, he doesn’t miss the way Brett’s features soften as he steps closer. His shoulders droop slightly, and his lips curve almost sadly. Several warning bells go off inside Liam’s head, and his whole posture stiffens to match his glare.

“I felt bad about what happened between us. It wasn’t fair, what I did to you at Devenford. I never should have forced you into something you weren’t for, and then exposed you when I didn’t get my way,” Brett says gently. There’s regret written on his face, but Liam doesn’t buy it for a second. Afterall, it’s been years since things went down between them, and he hasn’t once looked at him with anything other than anger on the lacrosse field.

Still, Liam doesn’t step away. He listens, an unsettling shiver crawling it’s way up his spine.

“When I found out your friends were trying to ease you into it naturally with your James Dean era prince charming, well…,” Brett shrugs, his smirk dropping into something lighter. “I figured I’d pitch in as an apology.”

Dread strikes at Liam’s heart. Cold. Vicious. Sudden.

“What?” _There’s no way…_

“I tossed $400 his way for his troubles,” Brett says, like it’s no big deal. But it is. It’s very much a big deal, if it’s true. “I figured you could have a nice dinner, a limo, something fancy. No?”

“No,” Liam spits, shaking his head. Because Theo had insisted on showing up separately, to keep his parents from getting wind of anything. Instead, Mason and Corey had picked up him, saying they were going as a group. “You’re lying.”

He takes a step back from the other boy, fingers gripping the cup tightly enough that the cheap plastic nearly cracks. “You’re just… you’re trying to mess with my head, like before. You’re trying to screw things up for me.”

“I’m not, Liam,” Brett says, reaching for him. He dodges the long, familiar fingers.

“Are you jealous?” His voice pitches higher, almost painfully. “Is that it? Because it’s taken me this long to do what you tried to force me to sophomore year? Because I’m happy and coming out on my own terms, but it’s not with you?”

“What? No! Liam, I already told you I was sorry about that.”

“And you also said you tried to pay Theo to take me to prom,” Liam rolls his eyes. “So excuse me if I don’t believe you.”

“I didn’t _try_ ,” Brett scoffs. “I did.”

“You don’t even know the guy, how would you—”

“I came by after school, to pick up—” He pauses as Liam’s scowl worsens, and breezes right on. “I was looking for you. I found out after he threw fucking _puke_ on me at the party what he was really up to. His friend Josh told me.”

“Told you _what_ , exactly?” His breath comes in short, quick bursts.

“Your friends have been paying him to date you, Liam.” Brett’s scowling now, looking almost hurt that it’s come to this. “I confronted him, last Monday. I told him he had to tell you what sort of bullshit they’d pulled, or I’d do it myself. I threw the cash at him as incentive, and told him to do it at prom, so I’d see it. So his embarrassment would be somewhere public.”

His heart is hammering in his chest, echoing loudly in his ears. A constant, panicked beat of _no, no, no_. This can’t really be happening. This _can’t_ be real, right?

But the split second of doubt is enough for his brain. The thoughts flood forth through an open dam, clouding his senses.

Theo showing up on the lacrosse field after practice, when only Mason and Corey knew he typically stuck around. Theo dropping by work with butter tarts after Mason had just left, saying he’d seen him in the bakery before—when Liam’s _sure_ he’s never been there. Neck Deep playing in the car the night of the party. All the times he said he talked to Mason about whatever was going on between them…when in truth, his best friend should have been advising him _not_ to date the bad boy with a list of conquests a mile long.

The look of fear, accompanied by shaky hands on the dance floor earlier.

_Liam. Wait, I—I need to tell you something._

Liam feels his throat close up. He can’t breathe.

“Did you really think a guy like him would just change? Would suddenly want something _real?_ ” Brett whispers. He feels the tips of the other boy’s fingers curl around his elbow. “Liam.”

He wrenches his arm free. “Don’t fucking touch me.”

“Dunbar, come on, man. Can’t you see I did this—”

“Don’t even _think_ about finishing that sentence, Talbot,” Liam snaps. “Whatever high horse you think you’re on? You still _blackmailed_ him.”

“So you believe me, then?”

Slowly, almost painfully, Liam turns to look across the hall, towards his table. Theo’s slumped forward in his seat, elbows resting on his knees. Corey’s shoulder is still touching his, but he’s looking between him and Mason. The latter’s back is to him, but even from here Liam can see the stiff set to his shoulders, indicating something is wrong.

On his third glance between them, Corey’s gaze catches Liam’s, and he stops. Blinks. Nudges Theo with his knee, lips moving to form words. The older boy’s head whips up, and his eyes widen immediately when they lock on Liam and Brett. His mouth drops open, and panic fills his whole face. He looks _scared_.

Liam feels his world shatter in that look.

The cup crumples in Liam’s hand like every happy thought he’s had the last few weeks. He’s only vaguely aware of it’s contents splashing over his dress pants because Brett all but leaps from the spray, cursing. His feet are in motion before he even has time to think about it. His hands are clenched tightly at his sides, shaking, and he can feel the rage bubbling in his chest, filling his lungs with molten lava.

It burns the way his eyes do.

Theo stands as he approaches, lips parting, but Liam doesn’t give him the chance to speak.

He lets momentum carry him. He’s barely just over a foot away when he reaches out, palms flat, and slams his hands against Theo’s chest. The other boy falls back, landing roughly in his seat, knocking back against the table. Corey’s eyes widen, and he leans away, narrowly avoiding being bodily checked into his own chair. Mason whips around to face him, startled.

“Liam? What the hell, man?”

“Is it true?” He seethes, ignoring his best friend.

“What did he say?” Theo asks, and it’s so quiet that Liam almost misses it.

“Is. It. True?”

His lower lip trembles, and his chest is heaving, barely containing his anger. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Mason step closer, concern etched across his face.

“Liam?” He sounds worried.

“You stay out of this,” he snaps, and watches as Mason recoils.

“Don’t,” Theo stands again, brows knitting together. “Don’t take it out on him, okay? He was just trying to help.”

“Help? My best friend whoring me out to some heartless prick was _helpful_ , was it?” Liam hates the way his voice sounds nearly hysterical. For the _second_ time this week, where this asshole is concerned. The ground feels unsteady at his feet, like it’s going to drop away at any minute. He figures it would be fitting, since the rug’s already been pulled.

Theo opens his mouth to respond, but Liam shakes his head vigorously, holding up a hand. “You know what? Don’t. I don’t want to hear whatever fucking excuse or lie you’ve got ready to go, okay?”

“Liam, just listen, please,” Theo begs, and he _almost_ sounds genuine. There’s a voice crack and a mist in his eyes and everything. Bile curls in Liam’s throat at the sight.

“Not for all the fucking money they paid you,” he spits. He hears Mason gasp, and sees Corey’s eyes widen, lips parting in shock. “God, you really had me, too. With the tragic family backstory and the tutoring and the—Man, you even had that whole fucked up thing with Scott! Did you come up with that after I told you about Brett? About how damaged he’d made me?”

He sees the hurt flash across Theo’s face. He watches as it bleeds into his posture and he hunches his shoulders inwards. He looks like a kicked puppy and Liam absolutely hates the way his heart twists at the sight of it.

He’s pretty sure the room is spinning, but he can’t stop the words from spilling from his lips. “For what it’s worth, in case the fake the doctor thing doesn’t work out—you’d make a great actor,” Liam says, and even he can hear the tremble in his own voice. He forces out a laugh, hoping to clear some of the tightness in his chest.

It doesn’t work.

“Liam.” Theo’s voice cracks around the word, and with it, so do the brittle pieces of his heart. He looks devastated. Liam almost wants to applaud him.

Instead, the younger boy stuffs his hand into his pocket, tugging the photo strip free. He doesn’t dare look down at the four-framed lie. Instead, he tosses it at Theo’s feet. “Keep it. I think you’ve earned something for your trophy collection.”

Liam steps back. Once, twice, and before he turns, he sees Mason start to move. He looks like someone’s just told him his dog died.

“If you’ve ever valued our friendship, Mase, you _won’t_ follow me right now.”

Not a single footstep follows him on his way out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Um. Listen. I'm sorry? ~~You should have seen this coming.~~ Also, hopefully the formatting wasn't too weird for the photo booth?


	6. the denouement

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well this uh. This got larger than expected and I don't even know why I'm surprised anymore? Please, take this off my hands so I can go finish the final scene that got way too big it needed to be it's own epilogue chapter lol
> 
> unbeta'd, so if you find any mistakes, please let me know!

It’s been so long, Theo’s almost forgotten what heartbreak feels like.

But as he watches Liam walk away, he‘s reminded. He remembers being five years old and losing his grip on the balloon Tara had got for him at the zoo. He’d watched it float away, up, up, up into the air, hoping it might come down. But it never did, and he’d cried the whole way home.

This? This feels ten times worse.

Theo’s chest aches like his heart’s been torn from it, leaving him a raw, gaping wound. His skin itches beneath his suit in all the places Liam made contact when he’d shoved him. And his hands are shaking badly, cradled around the photo strip the boy had flung his way.

_For your trophy collection..._

Trophies are meant to bring you happiness. Looking at the photo strip, at their happy, ridiculous faces and the near-kiss in the fourth frame—well, all he can feel is empty, aching loneliness. Every time he blinks, he can see the fury and disgust on Liam’s face. The words he’d spit and thrown rattle around the inside of Theo’s head, echoing, echoing, echoing. Taunting him.

Stoking the vicious anger in his chest—the only thing keeping him from shattering entirely.

Because he’s angry with himself, for letting things get this far, for not stopping this game in its tracks long ago. Or for not telling Liam the moment he realized he’d developed feelings for the younger boy. He’s even a little angry and Mason and Corey for ever coming to him with this ridiculous plan.

But mostly, his rage can be directed at a singular target, all the way across the room, standing by the punch bowl. There’s a smug smile woven across his lips that sets Theo’s teeth on edge.

“Theo.” Corey’s voice sounds almost far away, but the boy’s light touch on his arm is very much present. Theo startles, nearly getting whiplash from how swiftly he turns to look at him. His face is twisted with sympathy. “You’re going to crush it.”

Theo isn’t sure what he’s talking about until Corey’s fingers relocate from his arm to his hand, and the older boy looks down to see the photo strip is slightly curled in his grip, and bent in the middle. His eyes widen, and he quickly tries to smooth it out against his leg in a panic.

And then a shadow passes over it, and he looks up to see Mason towering over him, looking far from impressed. “What?” Theo’s tone is clipped. He’s not even remotely in the mood for whatever conversation is about to happen.

“How did Liam know?” Mason asks, arms crossed tightly over his chest.

He huffs, looking away and refusing to answer. He doesn’t want to feel more miserable than he already does, and he’s sure that’s going to happen if he tells them.

“Hey! I’m talking to you,” Mason says, a little louder this time. He nudges Theo’s foot for emphasis, and the older boy turns a glare on him. “Who told him?”

“Who do you _think_?” Theo spits, eyes flickering past Mason to land on the asshole in question. The two boys follow his gaze, and then gasp. Corey swears colourfully.

“How did he find out?” The quiet boy whispers, but given that he’s still seated next to him, Theo hears him loud and clear.

“Apparently we had one too many conversations in front of Josh.” The words taste bitter on Theo’s tongue. “He got drunk at the party and was incredibly chatty with his new pal Brett, who wasn’t too happy I’d thrown a puke-covered plant at him.”

“You _what?!_ ” Mason’s voice pitches high enough that Theo winces. Corey shoots his boyfriend a look, shaking his head.

“So, what… he told Liam? Just like that? I get that he lost Championships to us, but why would he… I mean, he’s already got Liam’s ex so…” Corey trails off, glancing back and forth between Mason and Theo. There’s confusion written all over his face.

They exchange looks, and Theo raises a brow. “He doesn’t know?”

Mason shrugs. “Dude, _I_ don’t even know. Whatever happened between them at Devenford… he’s never told me. And I’ve respected him enough to never ask.”

“Oh,” Theo blinks. There’s a brief flutter in his chest as he realizes Liam told him something his best friend hadn’t even known. The delight is temporary, of course, as a moment later a voice in the back of his head reminds him that he’d done so because he _trusted_ Theo. And he’d just gone and fucked that up.

He groans, carding one hand through his disheveled hair. “Fuck. I can’t believe I let this happen.”

Mason and Corey exchange twin glances of concern. The latter is the first to speak, leaning closer and placing his hand back on Theo’s shoulder.

“Let it happen? Theo, you couldn’t have known…”

The older boy shrugs out of his touch, scowling. “No, that’s the thing!” The watches the way their eyes widen at his panicked tone. “That’s what makes it so much worse. I _did_ know.”

His heart is beating frantically in his chest, guilt and shame ripping apart his insides. “Brett came after me at school last week, when I left you guys in study hall. He… He’s the reason I agreed to prom.”

“What?” Corey breathes, hurt flashing across his face. Mason stays quiet, staring, but Theo can see the hard set to his shoulders, and the tick in his jaw that gives away his anger.

“He gave me money. He said he was invested in Liam’s happiness, and that if I didn’t do this...if I didn’t tell him what was going on—then he would.” Theo pleads, and he hates how fucking _pathetic_ his voice sounds in his own ears. He knows exactly what this must look like to them. He’s just living up to his reputation, afterall.

“And you believed him?” Mason speaks, finally. His tone is tight, and devoid of the helpful warmth it normally contains. Theo feels the glass inside his chest crunch further into dust. “You thought he had good intentions in all this, after whatever it was that happened between them?”

“He said—He said he was trying to make amends,” Theo sighs, shaking his head. “I’m an idiot, and I was stupid enough to believe him, instead of telling him to get fucked.”

“Because saying you want to make amends while blackmailing someone to expose their fake relationship _totally_ isn’t contradictory, or anything…” Mason scoffs.

Anger flares in his chest, spurred on by two words buried in the middle of the other boy’s sentence. It’s instant, like a match flung into to kindling and lighter fluid. It hadn’t been fake, not for him—not since the party, maybe even before. He has trouble pinpointing when, exactly, real feelings mixed into this whole mess.

And it certainly hadn’t been fake for Liam.

It sets loose of a wave of possessiveness, and he knows it’s evident in his tone when Theo snarls: “I panicked! I knew it would hurt Liam to find out, especially from someone who hurt him before. I knew exactly how this would go and I didn’t—I didn’t want him to get hurt like this. I wanted it to _work_ . I wanted—I wanted _us_ to work.”

Theo’s voice cracks at the end, and the fire in his lungs gutters. He can feel the burn behind his eyes, and counters it by burying his face in his hands, fingers tangling into his hair. He’ll be damned if he ruins the last shred of his reputation by fucking crying at prom.

A lie. He’d destroy everything he has left to go back thirty minutes. To get a second chance.

It’s a few moments before he speaks again, and every second of silence from the other two feels sharp as it digs into his skin.

“I was going to tell him tonight,” Theo mutters between his fingers. “Earlier, on the dance floor. I requested songs, and I—I told him about my parents, about where I’d been last year, and then… I was _going_ to do it but…”

“But Gabe interrupted,” Corey sighs, and this time, Theo allows the hand on his shoulder. He looks up into those familiar brown eyes, and is thrown back two years, to younger versions of themselves, sitting in their smoking spot after Theo had walked out of Scott’s life with the pieces of his heart.

“Yeah,” Theo breathes, and almost cringes. He sounds fucking _pathetic._

“It wasn’t fake anymore, was it?”

Theo blinks, brows furrowing. “Of course not. You…” He pauses, looking between the sympathetic upturn of Corey’s lips and Mason’s quiet stare. “You both know it wasn’t. You’ve known for awhile!”

“So tell him that,” Mason speaks, finally. His tone is soft, patient, and look on his face has turned gentle.

“It’s not that easy, Mason,” Theo laughs derisively, shaking his head. He takes a deep breath. He knows this isn’t his story to tell, but if it’ll help them understand… well, he’s so far in the doghouse at this point he may as well be buried beneath it. The words come slowly to him, heavy on his tongue. “They were together, at Devenford. In secret, like—like me and him. But Brett pushed him to come out, and when he said no, he exposed him to their whole team.”

“Oh, god,” Mason whispers, while Corey gapes. “I’d known it was bad, but… fuck.”

“Exactly,” Theo nods. “So believe me when I say there’s no point. There’s no fucking way he’s going to trust me again. And I knew that. I knew that when I took the money, when I asked Brett how fucking high when he told me to jump.”

He can feel his self-pity evaporating, burned away by the return of his earlier anger. Theo knows it must be evident in his posture, because a moment later Corey’s pulling away, glancing up at Mason.

“Did you know when he came to you who he was?” He asks. “Did you know their history?”

“No.” But it doesn’t chase away the taste of bitterness in his mouth.

Mason looks relieved. “Well, that’s something.”

It’s just the spark Theo needs. He leaps to his feet, anger curling his lips into a nasty snarl around his words. “That doesn’t excuse anything! I could tell—I could _tell_ he had hurt him, same as you!”

Mason takes a step back, his hand finding Corey’s, and Theo’s own words to Liam come back to them. It’s not their fault, and he shouldn’t be taking his anger out on them. He knows that.

So Theo looks for the real target instead.

It takes him only a moment to find Brett at the end of the dance floor, at the last table of the bunch. There’s an easy, flirtatious smile on his face, and he’s got one hand flat against the table, boxing Hayden in between him and the support post for the upper level. His other hand twirls a lock of her hair between his fingers, and she’s laughing in a way that brings colour blooming on her cheeks.

Cold fury coils in the pit of his stomach at the sight. It’s sudden and overwhelming, and it’s the kind of anger he hasn’t felt since his father was alive. The stupid, risky kind that overrides his typically logical thinking.

“I knew I wouldn’t forgive myself if I let him hurt Liam again,” he says quietly, tone far lower than it’s been. Dangerously low. He holds the photo strip out for Corey, who takes it without question. “And I told him I’d break his fucking face if he did.”

“Theo—“ the younger boy starts, but doesn’t get the chance to finish as Theo stalks off. His footsteps are heavy, but the music and chattering students drown it out.

Which means that Brett never hears him coming.

Theo’s hands fist into the other boy’s suit, finding just enough purchase to lift him clean off his feet and slam him into the post. Given Brett’s height, he still very much touches the ground, but Theo is pleased to see he was right about outweighing him in muscle. The asshole’s fairly light.

Shock flickers across his ice blue eyes for only a split second before they take in Theo. And then a smug grin creeps across his lips.

“Yeah, I bet you’re pretty happy with yourself right now,” Theo snaps before the taller boy has a chance to speak. One of his hands untangle from the suit and force Brett’s jaw shut, resting against his throat. “I think you’ve done enough talking for one night.”

Brett raises one brow in challenge.

“Theo!” He hears Hayden shout, standing up from her seat. He assumes the other two pairs of shuffling feet are Mason and Corey, and he almost shakes his head. Corey should know better than to follow him right now.

Because this version of him is definitely not one Mason will want for his best friend when the dust settles.

“Where’s Liam?” Hayden asks, but he can tell it’s directed at the other two. “What is he doing?”

“Maybe you should ask your date,” Theo spits. “After all, he’s the one that made him fucking leave.”

“I think you managed that all on your own, Pinocchio,” Brett says between gritted teeth, and it reverberates all the way down Theo’s arm.

“Fuck you,” he hisses, emphasizing his point by slamming the taller boy against the post again.

“Ooooh, touched a nerve, huh? Maybe it wasn’t a lie after all.”

“It wasn’t, and you knew that,” Theo says. “Just like you also knew I’d come for you.”

Brett opens his mouth, and Theo’s skin is almost electric with the anticipation of whatever sentence he’s about to ruin with broken teeth. But he doesn’t get the chance. Brett’s ice blue eyes flicker left and down, and Theo senses Hayden’s presence before she moves.

And punches her date in the stomach.

Theo drops the taller boy in his shock, who doubles over, clutching at his abdomen with a groan. He looks down at the shorter girl, brows rising into his hairline when he spots the scowl on her face. He glances past to see Mason and Corey, the former of whom still has his mouth part way open and who looks out of breath, as if he’d just finished giving Hayden the rushed cliff notes.

“Whatever this was, you and me?” Hayden says, motioning between herself and the boy on the ground. “Consider looking for it somewhere else. I don’t have time for people who hurt my friends.”

Then she glances up at Theo, and her scowl softens, but only slightly. “And you? If your feelings are genuine, you better fix things with him. Otherwise the next punch has your name on it.”

And then she stomps off, shooting Brett a dirty look as she goes. Another girl stands up from her table, wrapping an arm around Hayden’s shoulders as they walk away together. It takes a moment for his brain to supply her name. Gwen. The one who threw the party at her place.

“I thought…” Theo trails off, frowning. He hears Corey snicker.

“They broke up because Hayden’s moving across the country for college, and didn’t think she could do distance,” Mason explains. “It broke _both_ their hearts, but everyone just assumes…”

“That they’re not still friends,” Theo nods, because he’s guilty of doing the very same thing. “They they don’t still care about one an—”

The air whooshes out of him as Brett tackles him. His arms pinwheel for a moment as he looks down, seeing a mop of curly hair pressed against his chest, and then he’s moving, bringing up a knee to stop the other boy from getting his hands wrapped behind his legs. No way in hell is he going down this quickly.

He staggers back as Brett lets go, and his eyes flicker up to meet Theo’s in a glare. The older boy smirks. “You can do better than that.”

Brett lunges, but he sidesteps it easily. As the other boy turns to face him, Theo’s fist connects with his nose. He doesn’t go down—he’s far too big for that—but his head snaps back with an audible _crack_ . When he straightens, there’s a bloody split across his nose and he looks _pissed._

Theo tries not to give him time to recover. He presses forward, swinging once, twice, but Brett dodges both now that he’s paying attention. On the third swing, he fires one back, and it connects with the side of Theo’s jaw.

He reels, one hand coming to press against his own face, and Brett uses the moment of weakness to leap. Theo ducks under the punch coming for his face, and has the sense to cover his ears and block with his elbows before the second one hits. But it doesn’t matter. The third and fourth are aimed at his ribs, and Theo wheezes as the breath is once again forced from his lungs.

“Hey!” Corey’s voice breaks through between the fourth and fifth, and suddenly Brett is pulled off him and dragged backwards by the much smaller boy. Off to the side, Mason’s eyes are wide, and he’s clutching the photo strip in one hand, the other hovering over his mouth. They go down swinging, and a startled yelp leaves Mason’s lips as he’s forced to scramble into a chair to avoid his boyfriend and his opponent.

It gives Theo time to clear his head, to suck in breath and push away the ache in his ribs and jaw before he’s moving again. He throws all his weight into the tackle, all but ripping Brett off of Corey and crashing into the other chairs from the table. There’s a flash of pain on his side as one chair snaps beneath them, but then he’s swinging his legs up to straddle Brett, and bringing his fist down hard in the other boy’s face.

He gets two good punches in before a hand wraps around his wrist, dragging his assault to an abrupt end. “Raeken! That’s enough!”

Theo freezes, shoulders stiffening as he looks up to see Coach Finstock’s face, twisted with fury. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

He’s heaving, breath coming in erratic, short bursts that match the tempo of his heartbeat. He can taste blood in his mouth, and his hair’s all over the place. Words fail him entirely and Finstock doesn’t look impressed. “Forget it, you can explain to me tomorrow, in detention.” His eyes roam over Brett’s bloody face before flickering up to Corey, who’s standing now, re-adjusting his tie. “All three of you.”

Mason’s quiet voice interrupts from where he’s standing on the chair, pointing at Brett. “He can’t, Coach. He doesn’t actually go here.”

“You picked a fight with a _guest_? Jesus Christ, Raeken, really?” Finstock mutters, dragging Theo to his feet. When he lets go of his wrist, the older boy smooths down his shirt, glaring at Brett as Coach leans down to help him up. “I’m so sorry. Kid’s got… issues.”

“He deserved it,” Mason says, and Theo shoots him a startled glance. That’s not something he’d expected to hear from him.

“Oh, not you _too_.” Finstock rolls his eyes, and from the ground where he’s seated, Brett laughs wetly. He spits blood onto the carpet, narrowly missing Coach’s shoe. The latter’s face scrunches up in disgust.

“He’s not wrong,” Brett says weakly, blue eyes bright as he looks between Theo and the other two. “I probably did deserve it for what I did to Liam, and to Theo.”

“What’s the matter with all of you, honestly? Were you not loved enough as children?” Finstock huffs, hoisting Brett to his feet. Once the tall boy is steady, he jabs a meaty finger to his chest. “You’re banned from our campus, _forever_. Whoever the heck you are.”

“Coach,” Mason pipes up. “He’s a senior at Devenford. So that’s kind of point—”

“You know what, Hewitt? You can join them in detention in his place. Is that better?”

“What?” Mason squeaks, bravado falling as his shoulders slump. Corey, however, shoots Theo a grin, as if he’s _proud_ to have earned himself detention. It thaws some of the cold emptiness in his chest. “Man…but it’s Saturday.”

“It is. Now get down from the chair. I’m escorting all four of you idiots out of here.”

As they file out after Finstock, Mason and Corey end up on either side of him. The quieter boy bumps his shoulder, offering him a reassuring smile, and to his right, Mason holds out his hand. The photo strip is cradled carefully in his palm. “We’ll figure it out tomorrow, yeah?” He grins. “We’ll help you fix things.”

“Thanks,” Theo says softly.

* * *

Liam comes home like a wrecking ball. He knows it’s stupid, knows that’ll only tip off his parents that something is wrong, but he’s angry enough he doesn’t care. He made the mistake of calling a Lyft home instead of just walking, figuring it would save time. And while it did, it certainly did no favours to the rage boiling in his blood.

He storms into the house, kicking his dress shoes off and flinging them haphazardly towards the rack. He darts up the stairs, a blur of motion that realizes only once he’s reached his room and attempts to strip it off that he’s forgotten his suit jacket at the hall. And it had been expensive. _Fuck._

He debates texting Mason and asking him to bring it home, but notices the sixteen missed messages and four missed calls, and remembers that he doesn’t want to talk to his best friend right now. Or Corey. And _certainly_ not the asshole responsible for his latest text.

_I’m sorry._

He snarls at his phone, tossing it onto his desk. It skitters away from him, and he busies his hands with ripping his tie off instead. He tosses it into his laundry basket and then flops face-first onto his bed, springs groaning in protest. A matching groan peels from his lips as he buries his face in his pillow, trying to fight the hot tears spilling from his eyes.

He doesn’t want to waste a single one on this experience. Not fucking again. Not when he should’ve known better. Should’ve seen the signs or _something._ Fool me twice, or whatever.

“Why me?” He mutters bitterly, but it comes out far closer to a whine.

“Why you what?” A quiet voice asks, and Liam freezes. He looks up at his headboard, and not for the first time tonight, he wishes he had some sort of spidey-senses. Or maybe just super hearing.

Maybe then he’d stop getting snuck up on and startled when he doesn’t want to.

Slowly, he turns to peer over his shoulder. His mother is leaning in his doorway, hands clasped together behind her back. There’s softness in her eyes, and worry lines wrinkled into her forehead. A patient smile tugs at the corner her mouth, and now that she’s got his attention, it blooms gently across her lips. “You okay, kiddo?”

“Uh,” Liam blinks, and hopes like hell his eyes aren’t as red as they feel. “Y-yeah. Fine. Prom was uh… lame. So I cut out early.”

Jenna glances at something to her right, outside his door, and Liam knows his stepfather must be hovering outside his room. Which means he wasn’t even remotely subtle on his way in if he drew the attention of _both_ his parents.

His mother steps inside, slowly padding across the room until she can perch herself at the edge of his bed. His stepfather David stays in the doorway, his barely peeking in, offering him a warm smile. When Jenna places a hand on his calf, he burrows into his pillow again, letting out a frustrated groan.

“That unconvincing, huh?” Liam asks after a moment, pulling back.

“You always say _uh_ a lot when you’re nervous,” Jenna points out kindly.

“Plus, prom’s not lame if you’re with the right people,” David adds, and there’s something about the gentle look on his face that makes Liam even _more_ nervous. “Did something happen with Theo?”

Yep, those are definitely nerves Liam feels in his stomach, fluttering violently alongside his anger, both trying to claw their way to the surface. “Um.”

“I’d hope not. He seemed like a very nice boy. Your mother and I were a little sad you left in such a rush—prom pictures with your date are still tradition, aren’t they? Or have the kids thrown all that away?” Davis adds, and he throws in a wink that has Liam sitting up, pulling his knees against his chest as he sputters at his parents.

“W-What?!” Liam squawks, panic evident in his voice. “He wasn’t—we’re not—”

“David.” Jenna sighs fondly, and her husband shoots Liam a guilty look. She scoots closer, plucking one of her son’s hands from around his knees and holding onto it gently. “Liam, sweetheart, I think it’s time we had a little talk.”

Liam’s eyes flicker to hers. They’re the same blue that he looks through. They only soothe the storm in his skin slightly. Mostly they don’t help. “Or, we could not. Not would be good.”

He doesn’t know why he’s this nervous. This shouldn’t be this hard, and it’s not a big deal. He’d come out to the majority of his graduating class tonight, and had barely thought twice about it. He knows, deep down, he’s scared because these are the most important people in his life, but he also knows they’ll love him no matter what.

And telling them he likes boys just as much as girls shouldn’t be as bad as telling them their son was basically the Hulk, right?

His mother seems to take his lack of conversation as a cue, because she squeezes his hand, glances at his stepfather, and then starts talking in his stead.

“We know you and Hayden broke up a few months ago,” Jenna says. His eyes widen. “I ran into her sister at the grocery store a few days after, and Valerie told me she’d been accepted to MIT. We didn’t say anything because we wanted you to have time to heal, to process on your own terms. Losing your first love is hard.”

David’s hand comes to rest on Jenna’s shoulder, and Liam only notices now that he’s stepped fully into the room, quietly, while she was talking.

“But then, after months of video games and pizza with Mason and Corey… this charming Theo appeared. And this… cloud that had been hanging over you cleared. You were laughing again, smiling in a way you hadn’t in ages. And the way you looked at him—the way he looked at _you_ …”

His mother exchanges a glance with his stepfather, and everything about it is fond. Loving. _Knowing_. It sets off all sorts of warning bells in Liam’s head.

His heart’s beating erratically, thumping against his insides, begging for peace. “You picked all that up from one dinner?” He whispers.

Because apart from one instance where both his parents had been late coming home from work, and his mother had just been serving when Theo walked in, causing him to have to sit down with them while he waited for Liam to inhale his food… Well, he’d done his best to keep Theo away from them. They studied after dinner, always up in his room, and he always came and went when the Geyers were busy and unable to chat. It wasn’t that Liam had been embarrassed or that he was trying to _hide_ Theo, exactly.

He just… hadn’t wanted this exact scenario to happen. He hadn’t wanted slip up and look at Theo the way he _felt_ , and have them see it. Not when he wasn’t ready and didn’t know how to handle any of his feelings himself.

Jenna’s cheeks are dusted with pink as she smiles. “Of course not. I poked my head in once or twice.”

Liam’s face turns a bright shade of red, and his voice pitches hilariously high. “You were _spying_ on me?!”

“On occasion, I fancy myself a bit of housewife, you know. I do laundry and things.” He can tell from her tone that she’s amused, teasing. It does nothing to help his blush. “Our bedroom is past yours, you see. And more than once I’ve dipped in to get laundry while the two of you were huddled together for a movie or a game. You never noticed me because you only had eyes for each other.”

His whole body feels hot, uncomfortable, as if he were still in his whole suit rather than pieces of it. He looses a cough, hoping to clear his heart from where it’s lodged in his throat long enough to get a word in, but his mouth opens and closes like a fish and his voice fails him.

“It’s okay, you know,” Jenna smiles. “Your father and I were going to wait until you were ready to tell us. We know this probably isn’t what you had in mind when you pictured coming out.”

Liam swallows, hard, forcing the words past his lips almost painfully. “Are you…mad?” He croaks, hating the way his throat makes it all sound funny. He feels like he’s drowning, like his lungs are filling with water and the surface is so far away. His eyes sting as he settles them on his stepfather.  “Disappointed?”

His mother’s eyes widen, hurt flashing across them as she whips her head up to look at his stepfather. David looks almost sad.

“Of course not, Liam,” he says, frowning. His fingers squeeze tighter at Jenna’s shoulder, and she in turn tightens her grip on Liam’s hand in support. “We’re so sorry we ever made you think that was a possibility. I’m not disappointed in anyone other than myself, kid.”

The pressure in his lungs clears slightly as he frowns, too. “What?” Liam asks.

“Well, clearly I haven’t been doing my job,” David explains. “I made you feel like this was something you had to hide from me—from us. We made you feel like you couldn’t tell us about this part of yourself, when we tell each other everything.”

The tears spill freely from his eyes as his lower lip trembles. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

“Don’t be, sweetheart. We’re sorry we made it hard to,” Jenna says softly, reaching up to wipe the tears from his cheeks. He leans into her touch, and the tightness in his chest melts away. “We love you, Liam. We’re going to love you no matter who you are, because you’re our son, and you mean the world to us.”

He buries his face in her neck, and a sob shudders out of him as his mother wraps her arms around him in a hug. She runs slow circles on his back, whispering in his ear. “Now, do you think you want to tell us what happened?”

* * *

Liam’s amazed he remembers how to get here, given that he’s only been here once, and he’d been so wrapped up in being both angry and then excited about prom on the way home that he figured he hadn’t been paying enough attention. Apparently he had, because there’s Theo’s house sitting in front of him, complete with sprawling garden and white-fenced porch where they’d kissed.

He’s still not sure why he’s here. He’s honestly not sure how his mother talked him into this. Confronting Theo about what happened? He’d much rather be spending his Saturday buried under the blankets in his room moping, thanks. After all, that’s what he’d called into work for.

But of course Jenna Geyer wasn’t having that.

After telling his parents the whole story last night, she’d suggested he should at least talk to Theo, calmly, and tell him how he felt about the whole thing. He sees no point in it. What good is telling the guy paid to pretend to be interested in you that you’d caught feelings for him? You know, other than to make yourself more miserable by congratulating him on a job well done?

“Oh sweetheart,” Liam says, face scrunching up as he does his best impression of his mother. “Nobody could _pay_ me to look at someone that way if I didn’t already like them.”

He’d insisted Theo was just that good an actor.

So his mother had insisted on driving him here the moment he’d called into work and freed up his day for wallowing. He throws a cursory glance over his shoulder to see she’s still parked two houses down, and spots her giving him a thumbs up through the windshield.

“Why me?” He groans, but stomps up the walkway all the same. He only hesitates a little bit before knocking. Once, twice, trying to quell the butterflies that spring the life the moment his knuckles make contact with the door.

Liam counts to forty-five before he decides he really can’t do this and turns around, attempting to flee. He’s only on the first step down from the porch when he hears the lock slide and the door swing open.

“Hi there!” A flustered, female voice says behind him. “Sorry, I was in the laundry room and didn’t hear the bell!”

Liam frowns, turning slowly. There, framed by the doorway, is a pretty young woman in her  early twenties. Her rust-coloured hair is falling from a loose bun and there’s a dusting of red on her cheeks that matches the out of breath heave of her chest. But it’s her eyes that draw Liam’s attention. They’re a bright and sparkling green that’s all too familiar to him.

They flicker over his face, assessing, and a moment later her brows dip downwards with the hint of a frown. “Can I help you?”

“Uh,” Liam starts, and then instantly wants to kick himself when he remembers his mother’s words from the previous night. “Tara?”

She blinks at him, looking even more confused, and possibly a little wary. Her head tilts in a way that reminds Liam of Theo, and his heart does this ridiculous little flip. “Uh, I’m Liam! A friend of Theo’s. Your—uh, your brother?”

_Good job, idiot._

A pleasant smile stretches across her lips, and his ears are graced with the light, twinkling sound of her laughter. It’s a direct contrast to Theo’s deeper, smoother one, but Liam finds it captivating all the same.

“Ah,” she grins. “It’s you.”

He blinks. “Me?” Liam asks, pointing at himself.

“The one my brother’s been spending all his time with.” Despite the raspy tone she shares with Theo, there’s a softness to Tara’s words and in the look on her face.

“Oh, uh… yeah.” Seriously, why would his mother point out his nervous tick to him? Now he can’t stop noticing it, let alone saying it.

Tara’s smile is warm, almost fond. “I was starting to wonder if I’d ever get to meet the mystery boy that’s brought Theo back out of his shell.”

“Out of his…” Liam trails off, staring at the hand she’s now offering him in greeting. His voice cracks as he looks up at her. “What?”

“Oh,” Tara gasps, bringing her hand to cover her mouth. “I’m sorry. Maybe he hasn’t told you what happened last year. That was silly of me.”

“The accident with your parents?” Liam says, and his heart stutters. _It wasn’t a lie?_

She stares at him for a moment, frown returning. “A lie? Why would you think…”

Liam’s eyes widen and his face heats with embarrassment. “Oh, God,” he groans. “I said that out loud, didn’t I?”

Tara lets out a quiet little laugh, then glances past him, to the driveway and street. When her eyes return to his, her smile has gone gentle, if a little sad. She steps out of the doorway. “Did you want to come in, Liam?”

He nods, and then shuffles after her into the house. Tara closes the door behind him, and Liam stands there awkwardly, hands tucked into the pockets of his jeans as he admires the little front entrance. His eyes catch on a framed photo just past the closet, where a long hallway starts. It’s of a young boy, arms wrapped tightly around his sister’s neck from behind. They’re both smiling ear to ear, falling over in the grass. Liam can see the house in the background.

A crash draws his attention away from the picture and back to Tara in a snap. Or, well, her general direction, because Liam can’t actually see her anymore.

He pads forward, peeking around the corner into the kitchen, where she’s standing with an empty baking tray in her hands, and a floor littered with cookie chunks. The smashed remains look vaguely like chocolate chip. When Tara spots him, her cheeks flood with colour.

“Oh, I—I’m sorry for leaving you like that. I’d just remembered there was a batch in the oven and I didn’t want them to burn!” She says hurriedly, blush worsening as she looks down at the mess. “I guess I wasn’t being careful.”

Liam moves before she says anything else, kneeling down and beginning to gather them up. She crouches to join him a moment later. “Thank you,” she smiles. “You don’t have to do that.”

“Least I could do,” he shrugs. “I distracted you.”

“That’s alright, it likely would’ve happened anyway,” she says with a grimace. “I forget things a lot. Theo says it’s because I do _too many_ things at once, but, well…”

Tara’s shoulders lift in a small shrug. “I’m actually fairly clumsy. I only have luck baking at the shop.”

He helps her like the last of the big chunks into the baking tray, and she walks over to the garbage can to dump them in. When she reaches for the broom tucked into the alcove next to the fridge, her words click, and it suddenly dawns on him that there was no vehicle in the driveway. No truck.

“He’s not here, is he?” Liam says, resisting the urge to facepalm or groan. “Today’s his shift at the bakery.”

Tara pauses, glancing up from where he’s sweeping to frown at him. “Usually, yes. But Josh is taking over today. Apparently he owes my brother several favours, and since both he and Tracy are at school today.”

“Oh,” Liam says, suddenly feeling sort of stupid. “Then why’d you let me in?”

She shrugs. “I told you—I wanted to meet my brother’s mystery boy.”

Liam ignores the fierce blush that threatens to make itself known at the thought of Tara thinking him _Theo’s anything._

“Right.” He clears his throat, rubbing at his neck. “About that… What I said out front, I—”

“It’s okay, Liam,” Tara smiles. “I get that things are a little complicated between you two.”

His eyes widen, brows rising far into his hairline as he blinks at her. Repeatedly. “What?” He croaks. “You—you know?”

She sighs, scooping to pick up the last of the cookie crumbs and tossing them into the garbage. She dusts herself off after returning the broom to its hiding place, and then turns to him with a look that’s almost sad.

“He came home really upset the night you guys went to the party,” Tara tells him. “He told me most of it then, over drinks. Not everything, I’m sure, but enough to know what’s going on.”

Liam’s shoulders stiffen, his throat tightening unpleasantly.

“There isn’t much Theo and I don’t talk about. He’s all I have, and he doesn’t really let anyone in. He hasn’t since our parents died,” Tara says quietly. “I don’t know how much he told you but, he shut off completely for a little while, after my accident. When I came out of it… well, I suppose it’s a good thing Josh and Tracy are just as stubborn as he is. Kindred spirits, and all that.”

Tara’s eyes drift away from him, and Liam follows her gaze to a framed photo on the wall just by the doorway, almost tucked into the shadow of a cabinet. It’s the two of them, older than the other picture from the front entrance, and far closer to who they are today. They’re standing with their parents and Tara’s wearing a graduation gown, and clutching a giant bouqet of white lilies. They’re all smiling brightly.

“He hasn’t smiled like that in a long time, Liam. Not until he told me about you, paintball, _prom._ ” Tara says, and it’s so quiet he almost misses it. “So thank you. Thank you for bringing my brother back out of his own darkness.”

He’d thought it was a lie. He’d thought it was all a sob story Theo had crafted to win him over, to make him sympathetic. Liam feels shame sting at his eyes and twist in his chest so hard it hurts.

“I didn’t… I didn’t know,” Liam nearly whispers. “I thought—”

“I know,” Tara sighs. “I told my brother this wasn’t the best way to start a relationship… but he’s sort of an idiot.”

Liam blushes. “Uh, we’re not—I mean, he—”

He clams up again, feeling nervous. How does he even begin to explain? How much does she already know? He can feel his palms getting sweaty, and wipes them on his jeans.

“Is he your first?”

“ _Excuse me?_ ” Liam chokes, missing the counter completely as he goes to lean on it and nearly stumbling into it. He straightens up, face extremely red and too too hot.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that!” Tara holds a hand to her stomach as her body shakes with bright, sparkling laughter. “I meant, is this the first time you’ve liked a boy?”

Liam stares, blinking. He’s a little surprised she doesn’t know, but warmth swells in his chest at the thought that Theo hasn’t shared that with her, at least. “No, it’s not. But the last time it didn’t—it didn’t end very well. I got hurt pretty badly, and I...I sort of thought I might be this time, too.”

“Thought?” Tara says, tilting her head. “You’re not sure?”

“Well, I… I don’t know what he told you about last night, but I… left. After I found out about his deal with my best friends.”

She looks unphased, so he figures at least that, Theo’s explained to her. He isn’t sure what that means, if anything. “I was coming to… well, I wanted to ask him if…”

Liam frowns, lips pursing and brows curving down into a heavy frown. He’s honestly not sure what he wants, or what he came here to say. He doesn’t know what he wants to hear, but something like hope sparks deep in his chest as Tara speaks.

“I know you want answers, and I know it’s not my place to give them,” she says, breaking him out of the dangerous spiral in his head by placing a gentle hand over his. “But he hasn’t shut up about you in weeks. Even before the night of the party, I knew something was going on. He hasn’t talked this way about anyone, not since Scott.”

Her nose wrinkles thoughtfully. “I don’t know if I was supposed to…”

“No, yeah, it’s okay!” Liam nods emphatically, feeling the weight on his chest lift as she confirms the last piece of Theo’s history he’d been scared of being fake. “I knew that. He told me.”

“Oh, good!” She breathes a sigh of relief. “And for what it’s worth, Liam… I don’t think he’d have picked a fight at prom and earned himself a Saturday detention for just anyone.”

He blinks, confused. “W-What?”

“I figured you didn’t know, what with you showing up here instead of the high school,” Tara smiles, squeezing his hand. “He was quiet last night when he got home, but… from what I understand, he got into a fight with some kid from another school. Someone Theo said hurt you, so he deserved getting the shit beat out of him.”

Her words knock the air right out of his lungs. His lips part in surprise, and he almost whispers Brett’s name aloud, but stops himself, letting the bitter word sit idly on his tongue.

“Of course,” Tara continues, as though she hasn’t noticed his inner struggle, “my idiot brother got himself hurt too, but…”

“I didn’t know,” Liam says breathlessly. “After I left, I—I ignored Mason and Corey’s calls. Theo’s too. I didn’t… I haven’t spoken to any of them since last night.”

But it explains why none of them have tried texting him today, since Finstock normally takes away phones during detention.

“I thought—” Liam starts, but his voice catches in his throat. His whole head is a mess, and there’s a storm of uncertainty brewing beneath his skin. “I came here to tell Theo how I felt. I wanted—I wanted to ask him if any of it had been real. Not just what he’d told me but… but if, uh…”

He chews on his bottom lip, and clenches his free hand tightly to keep it from trembling. He doesn’t know why he’s telling Tara all this, but he doesn’t exactly know how to stop, either.

Thankfully, he doesn’t have to. She straightens, suddenly, fingers slipping away from his. For a moment, he thinks she’s angry with him, that she’s going to defend her brother, but the softness hasn’t drained from her face. If anything, it’s more pronounced.

“I’d like to show you something,” she says, hands pressing together as she smiles. “Come with me.”

And she steps past him, leaving the kitchen. Liam spins around just in time to see her turn right down the hallway, and he moves after her quickly. They pass a living room and bathroom before they reach their destination. At the back of the house, tucked just past the stairs to the second level, is a door that’s just barely ajar and covered in a large PARENTAL ADVISORY sign.

Liam grins. _He would._

Tara pushes the door open, and steps back to let him walk through ahead of her into what he can only assume is Theo’s room.

It’s spartan, clean. The walls are bare, but he can see the from the way the blue paint is faded in some spots, aged by the sunlight filtering in through the blinds, that they used to be covered in posters. There’s neat stacks of science books on his dresser, and two bookcases stuffed full of brightly coloured novels, all tidy and organized, some tucked sideways on top to use every inch of space. His bed is small, pushed against the wall in one corner, and nicely made up.

The only thing that’s messy in the entire room is his desk, which is littered with crumpled paper. There’s a pile of it in the middle, and a handful scattered on the floor in front of his chair—and the large, black guitar case that’s leaned against it. It’s open, and inside of it sits an electric guitar. It’s got an ebony fingerboard, and the body is a gradient of brown, orange and yellow, a sunburst that radiates outward from the behind the white pickguard.

It’s the Fender Strat he’s been making eyes at for months while at work, the one he’s been trying to save up for.

“I was surprised when my brother brought it home this week,” Tara says, and Liam nearly jumps out of his skin as she steps into his line of sight. He’d sort of forgotten she was there. The curve to her lips indicates that she definitely notices, and she’s definitely judging him for it. “I’ve heard him sing the shower plenty, and sometimes when he bakes, but he’s never had an interest in music. At least, not enough to buy himself a guitar.”

“It’s left-handed,” Liam breathes, eyes still locked to the gleaming guitar. “He’s not left-handed.”

“No,” Tara smiles, glancing down at Liam’s hands. He wonders if she can see them shaking. “But I take it you are.”

He nods.

“I figured.” She takes a seat on the edge of Theo’s bed. “I assume from the way you’re staring at it that this is good?”

“This is…” Liam swallows, hard. He finally looks to Tara, eyes wide. “Do you _know_ how expensive one of these is?”

“He asked me to let him keep the bakery open late every night this week, and he went in last Sunday, when we’re typically closed,” Tara says. Her eyes flicker between Liam and the guitar. “But I know that’s not enough for a two-thousand dollar guitar. So I asked him about it.”

“And?” Liam watches as she carefully bends over, picking up one of the crumpled papers on the floor and unfolding it.

“He used the money your friends gave him. He used every dollar that boy paid him, and then some of his own,” she tells him, smiling proudly. Her hand stretches forward to offer him the scrap of paper.

Carefully, he takes it, smoothing out the sheet. _For that band you wanted to start._

Something in his chest tightens, but his fingers fill with warmth. He drops it, and bends down to pick up and unfold another. _For every doubt you have._

The third he picks up reads: _For all the apologies in the world._

“The last one he wrote is on his desk,” Tara says, and Liam pauses midway to another scrap. He steps closer to the ones littered across his desk. Most are crumpled up and discarded, but there’s one still unfolded. Still flat, and perfect, with the pen still sitting beside it.

Right next to the photo strip from last night.

His fingers brush across it gently as his eyes scan the page it sits next to.

_To Liam_   
_I know I lied to you. I know you have no reason to trust me, or believe me. But I want you know that I meant every word, of every minute we spent together. It stopped being about the money weeks ago, so I used it for something better. Something I hope you’ll like, even if it comes from me. I used it on you, because you deserve something good in your life._   
_I’m sorry, Li. I’m sorry for hurting you, and not telling you sooner._   
_~~Love,~~ Theo_

“Holy shit,” Liam whispers, and he’s amazed he manages that much. He feels like he can’t breathe, like Theo’s little words scrawled across the paper have knocked the air entirely from his lungs. The earlier tightness in his chest has evaporated, replaced by a lightness, a softness he can only describe as _hope_.

“Yeah,” Tara says softly, and he can hear the smile in her voice.

“ _Holy shit_ ,” he repeats, this time louder.

“Liam?” He looks up at Tara, and sure enough, there’s the grin. She holds her car keys aloft in one hand. “Want a ride to school?”

“Yes, please!” He nods more vigorously than he has in his whole life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [This](https://www.sweetwater.com/store/detail/StratAEELHSB--fender-american-elite-stratocaster-left-handed-3-color-sunburst-with-ebony-fingerboard), is the guitar Theo buys Liam, which is incidentally the guitar he's playing in [this image.](https://i.pinimg.com/564x/11/62/7f/11627f2e0121d98277de057ebf293829.jpg)
> 
> The scene at prom was meant to be much shorter and at the end of the last chapter, but the boys wanted to get into an _actual_ fight, so here we are ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


	7. the finale

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That feel when the last chapter, which was like 70% written/planned, actually takes you longer than anything else thus far. Uhhh. I'm done?? Holy shit. This has been monster that was once a mole hill, dudes. Enjoy? ~~No seriously, thank you for coming this far with me. And for being patient, if you've been here from the beginning. Ya'll are amazing.~~
> 
> Super huge thanks to Adri for listening to me whine for years about this chapter. You da bestttt ❤

Liam hasn’t been this nervous about being at school on a weekend since he was a little kid, when they had sleepovers in gym class and pulled all the mats out into a huge pile. He always found it difficult to sleep somewhere that wasn’t home unless he had Mason, or the stuffed wolf his stepfather had gifted him the first time they’d met.

But now, Liam’s hands are shaking for an entirely different reason. His heart’s in his throat, beating erratically as he tears down the hallway, sneakers squealing, lockers blurring together. He skids around the corner, headed for Finstock’s economics classrooms, but pulls up short of the open doorway. Hesitating.

He’d taken off the moment Tara had pulled into the space next to Theo’s truck, all but abandoning her after she’d given him a reassuring thumbs up and wished him luck. In his haste to get here, he’s sort of forgotten what he planned to say. Which means he might have to wing it, and he’s absolutely terrible at improv.

He shoves his hands in his pockets, fingers curling around a piece of paper in each. The one on the left is folded, but rumpled, like it’s been creased many different ways and looked at many times. It feels heavy, like his own words written down somehow have more weight to them, like they’re more meaningful and permanent, which is sort of the vibe he’d been going for when he wrote it all out last night. The one on the right is Theo’s note, which is folded neatly just once.

“Hey,” a voice says softly, and he nearly jumps out of his skin for the second time that morning thanks to the same woman. Tara grins at him, voice just above a whisper. “You going in, or what?”

“You came with me?” Liam frowns, because he hadn’t expected her to follow. He feels sort of bad for ditching her before the car had even been in park.

“You think I’m missing this?” She smirks, holding up her phone. “The look on my brother’s face is going to be one I want to remember.”

A smile tugs at the corner of his lips. “You’re not quite what I expected, but man, you really are his sister,” Liam snorts.

“And you’re exactly what I hoped you’d be.” She winks. “As described.”

A blush colours his cheeks at the thought of Theo talking that much about him, and he remembers his confession in the car after their date of just how well he knows Liam. The butterflies return full force. “Oh, God.”

“Relax! You got this,” Tara says, patting him on the shoulder. “Now get in there before I push you.”

“See? Definitely his sister.” Liam shakes his head, turning away from her and taking a deep breath.

And then he walks through the doorway into detention.

He intends on keeping his eyes trained to Finstock, to explain his presence as quickly as possible before Coach has the chance to kick him out for interrupting. Really, he does. But out of the corner of his eye he sees three other figures than the one he came to speak to, and he stops abruptly. His sneakers screech against the tiled floor, and he’s sure Finstock’s attention is drawn to him, because so is everyone else’s.

There’s amusement written across Tracy’s face, Corey is smiling, and Mason looks nearly as nervous and surprised as Theo does. They’re all clustered together in the middle of the room, his best friends turned partway in their seats to face the other two, and if he weren’t so confused and thrown off, he might actually acknowledge the little flicker of warmth in his chest at the sight of his friends and Theo’s together.

It would also explain why none of them have tried to text him more apologies today. Which only makes things slightly complicated, because he’d only planned on _one_ awkward conversation today, not two. Fuck.

“Dunbar?” Coach says to his right, but Liam’s eyes stay locked to Theo’s. “What are you doing here?”

“I uh,” Liam starts, attempting to swallow his nerves, “I came to talk to Theo.”

The older boy frowns, while Mason and Corey exchange glances. Tracy simply raises a brow, crossing her arms, looking almost impressed.

“That’s nice, but this isn’t social hour, it’s detention.” Finstock barks out a laugh, and Liam finally tears his eyes away from the older boy to look at Coach, drawn by the sound of him jabbing the clipboard on his desk with his finger. “And last I checked, you weren’t on the list.”

He folds his hands together, grinning up at Liam. “You can wait until your little pack of misfits is done.”

He’s been on the receiving end of Finstock’s detention enough times to know how long it lasts. He glances at the clock on the wall, and his heart plummets into his stomach when he sees the time. It’s barely noon.

“That’s in three hours!” Liam exclaims, well aware there’s a petulant whine to his voice. His gaze flickers back to Coach, pleading. “I can’t wait that long.”

Finstock shrugs, tapping his clipboard. Liam can see all four names neatly pencilled in. “No name, no choice.” He pushes back from his chair, standing up and stepping towards the short boy. “You could do with a test in patience, Dunbar. Come on.”

Finstock places his hand firmly on Liam’s shoulder, pushing him towards the door. He hesitates for only a split second, the spins out of Coach’s grip, going 180 degrees and turning back to face the desk. He ducks the hand that reaches out to grab him, and makes a beeline for the clipboard, plucking a pencil from the desk beside it. He scribbles his name at the bottom of the list, right beneath Theo’s and grins up at Finstock, who’s looking at him like he’s grown another head.

“There,” Liam says proudly, chin jutting upwards as he holds the sheet out to him. “Now my name’s on the list.”

Finstock all but rips the clipboard from his hands, and squints down at the added name. He stares, eyes flickering back up to Liam then down again. He shrugs, grumbling: “Whatever. You have terrible writing, kid.”

Liam frowns, slightly offended, but rejoices as he watches Finstock return to his seat as though nothing happened, picking up his red marker and resuming what looks to be grading papers. His shoulders sag with relief, and he sighs.

When he turns back to the foursome, Theo and Corey look just as impressed with him as Tracy, and Mason’s grinning excitedly ear to ear. Slowly, tentatively, Liam picks his way over, stopping just short of his best friend.

“I can’t believe you just did that,” Mason says, standing. Liam chews his bottom lip, unsure what to say. He hadn’t prepared for this conversation just yet, and really, what he says to his best friend about this whole buy-a-boyfriend situation depends entirely on how the conversation he actually _did_ prepare for goes.

All he manages is a weak: “What are you doing here?” He’s sure it comes off a little sour by the way Corey winces to his left.

“Someone has to keep these idiots in line,” Mason winks, but his voice is shaky, nervous. Liam knows he’s trying to diffuse the situation, but the joke rubs him the wrong way, and anger flares up in his chest. His hands ball into fists at his sides.

“So you’re all friends now?” He snaps, eyes skittering quickly over the other three. None of them look comfortable. “That’s great. Really. Happy for you.”

Mason deflates, shoulders sagging. “Liam, I didn’t mean…”

“No, no, it’s okay,” the hothead says, leaning out of the other boy’s reach. “At least something good came of this whole mess, right?”

“Liam.” He freezes, body locking up. Theo’s standing now, just inches from him as he steps between the two friends. His brows are knit together in a frown, but the rest of his face comes with a warning. He no longer looks impressed—he looks angry.

Liam knows the feeling.

“I told you not to throw your anger at him,” Theo says, and the shorter boy can hear the barest of tremors in his voice. “You wanna be angry at someone, you be angry at me.”

“I am.” His chin juts out, shoulders squared.

“Good.” Theo’s hackles lower slightly, posture loosening. The anger fades away into a tiredness Liam hadn’t noticed before. It’s in the patches beneath his eyes that are darker than usual and the hard lines of his face, and the younger boy wonders briefly if Theo knows what a good night’s sleep is. “Now, if you’ve come to punch me for what I did, can we maybe skip it? I think I’ve hit my quota this week.”

It’s then that Liam realizes _why_ the darkness around his eyes is stronger than usual. One is a black eye. And the tightness in his jaw? It’s slightly swollen on one side. Scuffed.

The fight instantly bleeds out of him, his anger washing from head to toe in a wave that softens his whole demeanour. Against his better judgement, he steps closer, frowning at the older boy. His fingers reach up to hover over Theo’s cheek, not quite touching. His raspy voice is barely a puff of breath, blowing Liam’s messy bangs around. “What?”

“Your sister told me you got into a fight with Brett after I left,” Liam says, and he watches the green of Theo’s eyes widen and fill with shock. The shorter boy watches it start to fade, watches Theo begin to mask it, and then decide to leave it. Open and honest. “She didn’t mention _you’d_ gotten the shit kicked out of you, too. You look like crap.”

Theo rolls his eyes, sad smile toying at his lips. “Yeah, well, it’s not like I’ve got anybody to impress anyway.”

Liam’s hand drops back to his side, head tilting slightly. “Says who?” His voice drops slightly, because he’s distinctly aware he’s got an audience for his next words, and he feels ridiculous enough saying it already. “Besides, you never needed your good looks to impress me. That was sort of a bonus.”

It knocks the morose look off Theo’s face, replaced with his earlier shock. His brows rise up into his hairline, and there’s bare, naked hope reflected in his eyes. And confusion. Lots of that, Liam notes.

“What?” The older boy chokes. “Liam, are you—”

He holds up a hand, and Theo quiets immediately.  He can’t get sidetracked. There are things he wants to talk about before he decides what to do. Liam’s tone is soft as he asks, quietly: “Why’d you pick a fight with Brett?”

A flash of anger. There and gone in a second. “You know why.” Liam’s eyes flicker down when they register Theo’s hands balled into fists at his sides. “He hurt you. _Again_. And I told him if he did, I’d—”

“ _You_ hurt me.” His chest twists painfully, but the ache isn’t caused by anger anymore. The look on Theo’s face matches it.

“I know,” he breathes, sounding pained. “I’m sorry, Liam. God, you have no idea how sorry I am.”

“We’re sorry too.” He leans past Theo’s broad shoulder to see Mason has returned to his seat, and he’s holding Corey’s hand in the space between their desks. Both look like they’ve been kicked when they’re down. He hasn’t seen them look this guilty since they went to see Deadpool opening weekend without him. For _Valentine’s Day._

Thankfully, Tracy is right there to diffuse the awkward silence. “I’m not sorry,” she says, drawing everyone’s attention to where she’s leaned back in her chair, feet propped on the desk behind Corey, arms crossed. “Y’know, in case I was expected to join the pity party. I meant what I said last night. You idiots would make each other happy.”

Corey smiles warmly at her, and she rolls her eyes almost affectionately at him when he nudges her feet off the desk.

“And that’s all we wanted, Liam. We just wanted you to be happy,” Mason explains, glancing at his boyfriend, who turns back to face them. If not for the shift in conversation, Liam might’ve laughed at the subtle way Tracy lifts her feet back up, sticking her tongue out at the back of Corey’s head.

“We know we didn’t go about it in the best way, but…,” the quiet boy trails off, wincing, and bringing his fingers to touch gingerly at the bandaid on his cheek. That’s when Liam notices _he_ looks kind of like shit too. He’s got a split lip and some bruising to one side of his face.

Liam frowns, suddenly realizing he’s missing an incredibly vital piece of this puzzle. “Wait. Did you… did you _also_ get into the fight? Is that why you’re here?”

Corey shrugs, grin lopsided as he raises one shoulder in a half shrug. “He was wailing pretty hard on Theo. I wasn’t just gonna stand there.”

Something like pride tugs at his lips, and despite himself, it turns teasing as he looks up at Theo. “You don’t strike me as the kind of guy that lets himself get caught like that.”

“I’m not, usually,” Theo mumbles. He doesn’t meet Liam’s gaze, and there’s a slight shadow that passes over his face as he looks down, scuffing a shoe against the tiled floor. His head is ducked, and his whole posture reeks of guilt as he presses one hand to his ribs, wincing.

The gesture says enough. He _let_ himself get caught, Liam realizes. He took the hits because he thought, on some level, that he deserved them just as much as Brett did. It makes Liam’s stomach turn with way too many emotions at once, so he looks past the taller boy, eyes finding Mason.

“How did _you_ get detention?”

“Who says we didn’t all fight Brett?” Mason puffs up his chest, sounding almost offended. Liam levels an unimpressed look at him, a single brow raised, and his best friend deflates. “Yeah, okay. Fair. I told Coach he wasn’t from our school when he tried to give him detention with them.”

A snort escapes his lips, despite his attempts to keep his laughter contained. It’s enough to lift the weight pressing heavily against his chest. Liam takes a deep breath, fingers slipping into his right pocket, wrapping around the piece of paper he lifted from Theo’s desk.

“I think getting detention for being a smartass is punishment enough, man,” Liam breathes, and Mason’s eyes widen almost comically. They sparkle with hope, and a muted joy.

“Dude. Really?”

“Paying someone to take me out was definitely a stupid plan, but it’s not like stupid ideas are new to us. And besides, you meant well by it. You _did_ want me to be happy,” Liam says, pulling the note free and turning it over between his fingers, unfolding it.

He hears a soft curse next to him, and he glances up at Theo. The older boy’s green eyes are locked to the note, wide with wonder, and his lips are parted slightly in what looks like awe.

“And I guess I feel less mad knowing where the money went,” Liam continues, but he’s not really talking to Mason anymore. Slowly, Theo drags his gaze up to meet his.

“She showed you?” He says, voice barely above a whisper. Like he doesn’t even mean to say it, like maybe it just slips out.

“She did,” Liam nods. He tries not to read too far into the emotions he sees swirling behind Theo’s eyes. The hope and fear and joy written in green and gold and brown.

“Liam,” he croaks.  “I—”

The shorter boy’s hand flies up, palm flat, stopping Theo before he can explain. He’s gotten sidetracked enough, and he actually feels confident about what he has to say, right this second, so he’s not going to waste it. Even if he feels like he’s standing on the biggest cliff yet, with Theo so very far below him, waiting.

“No,” Liam shakes his head. “I get to go first, okay? I went all the way to your house and then all the way here to say something to you, so I’m going to say it, and then you can explain.”

Theo’s mouth snaps shut with an audible _clack_ and he nods.

Liam takes another deep breath, and dives.

“I came out to my parents.”

There’s a strangled noise he’s pretty sure comes from Mason, but he doesn’t bother to look. He’s too preoccupied with the sharp inhale coming from the older boy in front of him. There’s a warmth in his green eyes that spurs Liam onwards, filling him with confidence even though his hands shake.

A breathy laugh escapes him. “Well, more like, we had a heart to heart last night where mom admitted she’d noticed something was going on between us, and my dad apologized for making me feel like I couldn’t tell them I was bi,” Liam says, every word feeling lighter than the last. “They said they were waiting for me to be ready to tell them. And it looks like I was. So…”

He chews on his bottom lip, and ignores the flicker of heat when Theo’s eyes are drawn towards it. Despite that, Liam forces himself to keep going. “So uh, thanks, I guess. Even if it was all a lie—” He swallows, trying not to let his voice catch or tremble with nerves. “Even if it was some sort of game or bet… you made me comfortable enough for that. You made that happen.”

Hurt flashes across Theo’s face. “It wasn’t—”

“I’m not finished,” the shorter boy says, and it looks physically painful for Theo to stop talking this time. Were it not for the fact that his heart is currently lodged in his throat, Liam might be impressed by the sway he holds on Theo right now. He clears his throat. “I came clean about everything. Brett, Devenford, _you._ How I—I feel about you and uh, this whole mess.”

Just barely at the edge of his peripheral vision, he sees Theo’s fingers twitch, like he itches to reach out.

“My dad told me that you love more than once. He said if it isn’t meant to work out, then it won’t. But if it is… My mom told me that if—if what _I_ felt was real, then at the very least I owed it to myself to be honest with you. With myself. So uh…”

Awkwardly, he shoves Theo’s note into his hands, and the older boy nearly drops it as it’s sudden and unexpected. But Liam needs his hands free. He fumbles for his other pocket, pulling loose the wrinkled page and unfolding it. He stares at his own writing, at the note _he_ wrote last night, after speaking with his parents.

This is why he’s here. This is what he wants to say, but wasn’t sure he knew how, so he did the only thing he understood. He wrote.

“I haven’t written my feelings into anything since freshman year, but—well—” Liam smooths the creases in the page, trying to keep his hands steady and failing miserably. Fingers wrap gently, tentatively, around his right bicep, and Liam’s gaze slides over to Theo’s hand.

“Did you...did you write me a song, Liam?”

Slowly, his gaze travels upwards, following the lines and folds of his sleeve all the way up to his green eyes. They’re soft around the edges, crinkling with delight.

“It’s not—there’s barely any melody, okay? It’s more of a poem, I just—shut up,” Liam mutters, but he stops shaking. Because Theo’s tone isn’t teasing, it’s awed. Like he can’t quite believe it.

Truthfully, neither can Liam. Especially when he considers the fact that he was going to sing this alone in a room with just Theo, instead of his two best friends, one of Theo’s, and Coach Finstock. But then, if he wants that band to be a reality someday, he’s gotta start somewhere, right?

_Oh, God._

He sort of wishes he could see Tara from where he’s standing. The reassuring smile she’d offered him earlier had looked like a enough of a mix of his mother and Theo that it had put him at ease. Instead, he takes a deep breath, curling into his hoodie a little bit, letting the comforting scent wash over him. He must be fairly obvious about it, because it makes Theo _really_ look at it, and Liam sees the moment recognition dawns on the older boy.

Liam opens his mouth before Theo can ask what he’s doing in his hoodie, the one he’s had since the night of the party.

 _“I hate the way you talk to me,_  
_And the way you cut your hair._  
 _I hate that I look for you in a crowd,_  
 _I hate the way you stare.”_

Liam sings softly, eyes trained resolutely to the page in front of him. His voice is steady, cascading from his mouth freely, a waterfall of slight notes and lyrics. Theo’s touch on his arm feels like fire.

 _“I hate your dumb leather jacket,_  
_And the lingering smoke smell._  
 _I hate the way you read my mind,_  
 _I hate that you know me so well.”_

He looks up, knowing the rest as if the words are something he’s been memorizing every day for the last few weeks, instead of all last night. Theo’s eyes are bright, and glisten wetly, making Liam’s throat dry up. He almost falters, but after a deep breath, the rest of the words tumble out of him. They’re slightly off-kilter, and the melody isn’t quite there, but he presses on regardless.

 _“I hate the green of your eyes,_  
_And your fucking perfect smile._  
 _I hate it when you’re not around,_  
 _I hate the fact that you lied._  
 _I hate that you made me laugh,_  
 _And worse, the way I cried.”_

Liam’s hands really are shaking now, tears partially clouding his vision of Theo’s face. His voice wavers, but thankfully doesn’t crack as he finishes singing.

 _“I hate the way you made me fall._  
_But mostly, I hate that I don’t hate you._  
 _Not even a little bit. Not even at all.”_

The silence after he’s done is almost deafening. Liam’s not actually sure anyone in the room is breathing. Theo certainly doesn’t look like he is. He can’t even hear Coach scribbling away anymore, but then, he can’t hear much past his own erratic heartbeat and ragged breathing.

Finally, after enough seconds to fill three eternities (so, far too long for his sanity, in Liam’s opinion), Theo swallows. His lips, which have never fully closed the whole time Liam was signing, mouth agape, now press together hard enough to turn white. And then he’s chewing on the bottom one, eyes searching Liam’s face.

He lets go of a chuckle, and it sounds just as wet as Liam’s eyes feel.

“Is that...is that what you came to my house to tell me?” Theo says quietly. Liam nods, not trusting himself to speak anymore than he already has. “And none of it… changed after you saw the guitar? The notes?”

He’s still holding onto Liam lightly with one hand, so he lifts his own apology note with his other one. It flutters between them.

“The depends,” Liam croaks. His throat feels raw, like he’s screamed the confession instead of sang it quietly. His heart is pounding fiercely in his chest, and he’s amazed he hears any of Theo’s words at all when it’s so loud in his ears. “Did you mean it?”

“Every word,” Theo says breathlessly. He sounds like he’s run a marathon.

“Every one?” Liam blinks, heart twisting.

Theo averts his gaze a little, but one corner of his lips turns up in a way that makes Liam think he knows exactly what he’s talking about.

“I crossed it out because you didn’t deserve me telling you on a piece of paper that I’d fallen in love with you.” His knees almost give out. “Especially when I didn’t think you’d believe me. Not after what happened.”

He clears his throat, and the fingers still curled loosely around Liam’s arm slide upwards, setting a trail of fire ablaze beneath his skin. Gently, carefully, they come to rest on Liam’s cheek, wiping away the tear sitting there. Red dusts the older boy’s cheeks, and he can tell from the look in Theo’s eyes that he’s waiting to be told off. He’s waiting to be pushed away, again.

“Do you blame me?” Liam asks softly.

“Not for a second.” Theo shakes his head. “I lied to you, and that hurt you and broke your trust. I should’ve told you what was going on the moment I realized I had feelings for you. I _wanted_ to I just…”

The hand on Liam’s cheek disappears, and Theo reaches up to rub awkwardly at the back of his neck. He ends up shrugging. “I was scared.”

“Scared?” Liam says, and a bolt of guilt shoots through him when he thinks of the crowbar story. His voice grows quiet, shoulders tucking in a little. “Of me?”

Theo’s eyes widen. “Not like that! No, God, Liam. I...I was scared of _me_. Of having feelings for someone again. I’m not—I’ve done a lot of stupid shit, okay? You know hard I spiralled. None of that was ever a lie, not a single thing I told you about me. I haven’t been the best person since my parents died—since before that. I pushed people away. Some got hurt. I didn’t… I didn’t want that to happen to you.”

_Thank you for bringing my brother out of his own darkness._

Liam’s stomach pinches. “And yet that’s exactly what happened.”

Theo deflates, guilt written all over his face. “I know.”

“Do you regret it?” Liam presses his lips together.

“Lying to you? Every second since I saw that look on your face, after Brett told you.” Theo lets out a shaky breath. “Before that? I want to. I want to regret taking his money, or Mason’s… but if I hadn’t, then this never would’ve started. If I regret how it started, then that would mean I’d regret what it led to. What I figured out along the way.”

Tentatively, he reaches out, fingers touching lightly to Liam’s, a silent question in his eyes. The shorter boy responds, twining their hands together. He watches the relief roll through Theo’s shoulders.

“I don’t regret any of our time together, Liam. Not getting to know you, not the tutoring or the video games or the movie nights or paintball. Not cheering my throat raw at finals, or almost falling off a roof and throwing a potted plant filled with puke. Not every kiss or touch. Not even getting my ass beat at prom.”

Liam folds his song lyrics into his pocket, lifting his free hand to Theo’s face and oh so carefully running his thumb over the swollen bruise on his jaw. Theo winces, but still leans into the touch. He feels sparks sizzle at the touch and run all the way down his arm, to his chest. To his heart.

Theo’s eyes are bright with honesty as he says: “I don’t regret a single moment of falling in love with—”

He leans up, pressing his lips firmly against Theo’s. They’re warm and soft and part beneath his own. Liam flicks his tongue over them, then pulls back, giving into the gentle, insistent tug of a smile. “Good,” he grins. “Then neither do I.”

Theo’s eyes widen, and Liam can feel the way his fingers tremble. He squeezes his hand. “Does this mean…?”

“It means you’re forgiven on a probationary basis,” Liam says, and Theo chuckles, nervous smile spreading over his face. It thaws the little doubt left inside of him. “It means you’re an idiot, and my friends are idiots, but I want to be happy. And _you_ make me happy. So I’m willing to try, if you are.”

Theo leans down, resting their foreheads together. “Fuck yes.”

When Theo kisses him this time, it’s to the sound of clapping and cheering. He feels a smile that matches his own break out across Theo’s mouth, and pulls away to see Mason and Corey grinning, the source of the commotion. Tracy rolling her eyes, posture one of cool elegance, but there’s a smile playing on her lips, too.

“Good,” a grumpy voice sounds behind them, and they turn to see Coach leaning back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest. “Because if I had spend another minute listening to this, I was gonna have to call my dentist. You’re disgusting sweet. I think I have cavities.”

Mason lets out a barking laugh, and Liam flushes. “Uh,” He sputters. “Thanks?”

“No problem. Now please, get the hell out of my classroom. All of you.”

Liam’s eyes widen, flickering up to the clock. He’s only been here a few minutes. Coach is pretending not to see his grateful look when his eyes return to him. Instead, he’s scribbling log times on the detention checklist. He clears his throat.

“Go, Dunbar. Before whatever spell your little display put on me runs out,” Finstock grumbles, waving a hand in the direction of the door.

Theo’s wearing a bright grin when Liam looks back to him. He squeezes their fingers together, and then the other three are up and following them. The smile is contagious, and by the time they tumble out of the classroom, they’re all laughing.

At least until Theo spots his sister, standing right outside with her phone in hand and equally cheery smile on her lips. Liam watches his posture soften with a gentleness he’s not used to. Not even with him.

“Tara?” He frowns. “What are you doing here?”

“Someone had to give your boy a ride,” she motions to Liam, who flushes.

“Oh,” Theo says. “Well, thanks I guess.”

“Oh, no need to thank me,” she smiles, and Liam notes that there’s an air of mischief about it. She waggles her brows, holding up her phone. “I have all the thanks I need right here.”

“What?” He feels Theo’s grip tighten slightly.

“You two are adorable, y’know?” She winks.

“You didn’t.” He looks horrified, but there’s also red creeping across his cheeks and ears and neck. Liam’s struck with the sudden thought that it’s a very good colour on him.

“Filmed the whole thing. I have to have something to show off at the—”

“Tara, I swear to God—”

“I thought you were an atheist, little brother?”

And then the Raeken siblings are off, chasing one another down the hallway, back towards the entrance. Liam blinks after them, unable to stop the laugh bubbling from his lips.

“Hard to believe they’re the oldest ones here,” Tracy says, and she sounds almost _fond._ She moves to follow them, and Corey slips past, giving Liam’s arm a squeeze as he falls into step beside her. A moment later, they’re chattering amicably.

Mason appears next to him as Liam trails them, nudging his best friend with his shoulder. “I can’t believe you kissed your way out of detention.”

“Technically I _confessed_ my way out,” Liam points out, giving him a sidelong glance.

“Semantics.” Mason waves his hand, then his shoulders tuck inward slightly, and he rolls his right wrist until it cracks—a telltale sign that he’s nervous. “I really am sorry, Liam. This is _so_ not how I meant for things to go.”

“I know.”

“And like, I’m glad it’s worked out. Really, I am! I haven’t seen you this happy in ages.”

“Mase, it’s okay. Seriously.”

His brown eyes widen, bright and joyful. “You mean it?”

“I mean it,” Liam nods, just as they pushed through the front doors after the others. His gaze find Theo immediately, down by his truck, his sister’s phone clutched triumphantly in his hand and held high above his head. She stands in front of him, arms crossed, looking flustered. “It all worked out, in the end.”

When Theo catches his eye, his smile is nearly as dazzling as the sun beating down on the parking lot. Liam finds himself mirroring it easily, his stomach fluttering. He starts down the steps towards him. “Besides,” he says sideways to Mason, “I think buying me an apology guitar is more than enough. Thanks, by the way.”

“Apology _what_?” His best friend frowns. He stops dead in his tracks, and his voice pitches upwards almost hysterically. “Is that what he used my money for? He bought you a _guitar?!_ ”

“Not just any guitar.” Liam looks back up as he finishes the last few steps, closing the distance between himself and the others. Mason’s mouth is agape, stunned. “The Stratocaster I wanted.”

The strangled noise Mason lets out is somewhere between excited and amazed. “Holy shit. Liam, marry him. Please.”

Theo’s laugh is rich and warm, and he’s distracted enough for Tracy, who’s taken a seat on the hood of his truck, to snag his sister’s phone. She tosses it back to Tara, who thanks her with a sigh. Theo doesn’t look much like he cares, eyes only for Liam.

“How about we start with a date first?” The shorter boy says, tucking himself into Theo’s side as the arm that had been holding the phone up comes down, resting around his shoulder. “Y’know. _Officially_.”

He squeezes him tighter, grinning brightly. “I think I can handle that.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ta daaaaa. Note: the song is obviously based partly on the poem from the movie, with a Thiam twist for the fic. 
> 
> I can't believe I'm done? I'M FREEEEEE.


End file.
